Somewhere in Between
by H-thar
Summary: AU: Sequel to "Always in Repair" and "Believe in Yesterday." Even after surviving the fall, another war, and an epidemic, there is no predicting the fate that awaits a dying Cocoon and the Settlement in its shadow. Hope fights for the future, but Lightning holds tight to the past. Rated M for adult and eventual dark themes.
1. Safety Suits

**A/N: Well, it's been a long time coming, but I have finally cranked out my 'required' first five chapters for this sequel and sent the first three through the editing process with beta-roomie – thus, I am keeping my promise and posting ^_^ I swear this thing has been edited to DEATH, but I do apologise for the slower start. Please mind the approximate year-and-a-half gap in time from the end of Believe in Yesterday's epilogue, and if you somehow have NOT read that story and its epilogue yet, do yourself a favor and stop reading this right now. There are too many elements of this story that will make zero sense without knowledge of the prequel's events.**

**Before we begin, I'd like to thank the many readers and reviewers, signed and anon alike, who have stuck with me through this epic fanfiction journey that somehow turned into a trilogy. As always, I could seriously use feedback to inform the direction I'm taking this story, so I invite you all to take part! And as an extra treat, I am offering up a handful of fitting songs for each chapter – feel free to give them a lookup for mood, etcetera.**

****Disclaimer (for entire set, to avoid redundancy): Square Enix owns these characters, though I'm amazed at how they can kinda sorta half-way come up with brilliant ideas and then blow their potential. Thus, I continue writing, but for no personal profit. Also, my basis for titles belongs to Our Lady Peace, whose lovely new album features a song called "Heavyweight" – the inspiration piece this time around. Definitely listen to that song ;-)**

* * *

**Somewhere in Between**

[Chapter 1 Songs: "Angels/Losing/Sleep" – Our Lady Peace; "Some Nights" – fun.; "What You Know" – Two Door Cinema Club; "Sentimental Tune" – Tegan and Sara]

Safety Suits

_So this is what we've accomplished._

Hope raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of sunlight flashing off Cocoon's shell, the small moon in all its glory dominating his view from atop the transport. It was still disconcerting to see the metallic rods, dark against Cocoon's bright surface, fanning out like spines over a multitude of points on its underside. Thicker, vertical structures set in a crescent shape around the stem's south-facing half were a match for the fingers of an unseen hand that threatened to close around Fang and Vanille.

The blended shadows of Cocoon's patchwork scaffolding crisscrossed the western landscape in a spidery net as the morning sun rose, and he shivered despite the balmy summer air.

_It's only necessary,_ he told himself again. Six power outages in less than three years had sounded a frightful alarm that Cocoon could one day drain of its energy, and if that happened, there was no telling whether the shell would crash to the surface of Pulse, crushing PSICOM Central Command and most of the Settlement in the process. Lacking the resources to ever construct supports capable of bearing Cocoon's full weight, the best they could do was to erect massive buffering stanchions connected to a vast network of polarized rods. At least, Hope had proposed, they could control the _direction_ of the collapse if it came to that. Theoretically, a strong electromagnetic pulse could repel it northward, away from the Settlement.

_And if that fails_, Hope thought to himself, pressing his fingers to his temples, _those stanchions should be just enough of a push to _tip_ it northward._

An entirely separate crew had even dug a ten-mile-long groove in the terrain that could guide Cocoon to a valley in that direction, like a giant marble on a track. That part had been a simple idea, but it was practical.

They weren't gods or fal'Cie – moving a moon was no easy task.

Still, as worthy as he knew the cause to be, Hope cringed every time he stepped onto his worksite, wondering what Fang and Vanille might be experiencing as a result of the commotion around them – the soundings to check the crystalline surface for stability, the noises of construction, and the simple fact that they were gawked at by people who initially wanted to kill them, most of whom still didn't give a second thought to their well-being. He half expected the Pulsian warrior to decrystallise and whack him upside the head with her spear.

Whatever the case, it was all his fault. Just over a year ago, Hope had personally been the one to suggest peripheral rods to work in conjunction with the stanchions PSICOM was already constructing at the stem of Cocoon, and Colonel Sabin himself had requested that he direct the team of engineers for the project and report on their progress. Hope already knew several of the workers by name from their visits to the GC base over two years ago to study the windmill designs nearby, having flown them in via transport and shown them around with Maqui. Their project then, the western plains windmill farm, had long since passed the planning stages; it was set to be the hopeful backup energy source for vital Settlement operations and was already the source of Central's emergency power. Once the engineers were free to leave the remaining construction in the hands of two or three overseers, they jumped right into the challenging task beneath Cocoon.

For Hope, nine trips from the remote GC base of Aerma Proper had come and gone, and the ambitious _Operation Undergird _was in its final stage.

But in those nine trips, Hope had yet to take the colonel up on his offer for lodging within Central's complex, and this time was no exception. For days, he'd been parked just outside the warehouse district as usual – it afforded a broader, more encompassing view of Cocoon's state, as well as the familiar company of Guardian Corps soldiers that he missed after the long journey from home.

Or the company of one soldier in particular.

"Ugh," he groaned to himself, burying his face in his hands as his thoughts careened away from workplace concerns. His cheeks felt unusually warm, the result of visualizing his last encounter with Lightning's morning routine. He had relished the way she sleepily crawled across him to snooze the alarm two times before tumbling out of bed on the third, sheets clinging to her waist as her bare feet hit the floor. At that point, she'd snapped to alertness, and no amount of coaxing could derail her from the mission of shower-dress-and-leave.

Hope absently wondered if having her sleep in socks or putting down a rug would nullify the 'cold floor' trigger to her departure, and then he came full circle to the miserable truth of the bigger problem. She was hundreds of miles away.

"Ha! Found ya!"

Suddenly alert to the familiar voice, Hope whipped his head to the right, eyes scanning along the hull of the transport until he saw the tell-tale spiky nest of blonde hair pop into view.

Maqui hauled himself up from the final rungs and plopped down with a clang, poking Hope's shoulder rapidly as he scolded, "You're gonna get your _dignified_ clothes all dirty, idiot."

"They're not_ dignified_," Hope grumbled, batting away the offensive hand. He undid the buttons at his wrists, methodically rolling the sleeves up to his elbows as he spoke. "They're just a compromise, so I don't look like such a bumpkin around the higher-ups for this project. Believe me, I'd rather be in coveralls right now." Squirming uncomfortably, he reached back to tuck his wayward shirttail into the waist of the gray slacks. One year of wearing the new ensemble – on site, anyway – was not sufficient time for him to adjust.

_Even if Yuj did a bang-up job with designing something decent and durable, and even if he based it on Sazh's outfit, these pants are a little too fitted for my taste. _

Maqui laughed evilly as he mocked, "Well I beg your _pardon_, Director, but didn't your 'compromise' also include this nifty little necktie?" In a flash of movement, he ripped the length of pale blue fabric from somewhere inside his vest, lassoing Hope's head with the loop and tightening it in place like a sweat-band. The tie itself hung down between his sour glare, green irises crossing as he automatically tried to focus. Seeing the odd expression, Maqui's mouth twitched and contorted as he suppressed his snickering.

"Oh yes, this is very dignified," Hope deadpanned. He yanked the tie off and thrust it back in Maqui's face. "I will personally strangle Yuj if he ever comes around presuming to make me wear this thing. If you think it's so nifty, why don't you wear it yourself?"

"Heh, useless to me, but I'll hang onto it for laughs." Maqui swiped the tie from his grasp and tucked it away again, shrugging as he remarked, "Not the reason I came lookin' for you in the first place."

"Please say you've made coffee," Hope yawned, crossing his arms atop his knees and resting his head there. He felt suddenly exhausted by the mounting weight of his thoughts at such an early hour.

Rather than tease him further, which Hope fully expected, Maqui cocked his head to one side and gave him a scrutinizing look.

"You really forgot, huh? Are you sure you're doin' alright?"

Hope sat up straight in alarm. "What do you mean, 'forgot'?"

"Dude," Maqui sighed, scratching his head, "today's the Day of Mourning. You know, for the Landing Festival? I mean, you're already wearing white, so I figured you had some plans to, er… pay respects to your mom, a-and I thought you might be heading out early for that, maybe want some company..."

"Mom died in the Purge, not the fall," Hope answered mechanically, his eyes fixed once more on the haunting glow of Cocoon. "I paid my respects with Dad two weeks ago, right before taking off on this trip. I just got up morbidly early this morning out of habit."

_Besides, I don't feel right about mourning over Fang and Vanille when they aren't really gone. Maker knows when they'll ever wake up, but they definitely are not dead. And I won't_ let_ them die, so help me._

The silence between them grew heavy with his unspoken thoughts, and Maqui cleared his throat as if it physically choked him.

"O-oh, well it's not like you won't have more than enough company today anyway. Might be the first time the Almighty Lightning's taken leave since your honeymoon—"

"_What?_" Hope exclaimed loudly, immediately covering his mouth before he could have any additional outbursts. After a deep breath, he let his hand drop shakily. "S-she's _here_? When did she get here? Where is she?"

Amusement played across Maqui's face as he seemed to fully realise the impact of his words.

"Wasn't it a personal request for _all_ the l'Cie to be present this year, straight from Colonel Sabin?" Maqui said knowingly. "I'm sure the lot of 'em will land over at Central pretty soon, Hope. Of course, you woulda been there already if you didn't keep refusing to stay in the housing the colonel offered."

Hope shook his baffled head, sputtering, "But… he didn't tell me we were_ all_ invited! I-I mean he mentioned that I should join him for the Festival's activities, and I'll admit forgetting what day it was today, but I swear he didn't tell me about the others, not a word…"

"Hey, if anyone could read the colonel's mind, it'd be you, not me," Maqui scoffed. "Maybe he wanted you guys to be surprised! Snow said he hadn't gotten the message either, not till I told him over the comms this morning, but I thought he was just being scatterbrained."

Hearing the explanation, something else suddenly occurred to him. Hope grabbed the front of Maqui's shirt in his fist, narrowing suspicious eyes at his friend.

"If Snow wasn't in on it, how exactly did_ you_ find out?"

Smirking, Maqui just reached out to muss his silver hair. "Easy. Lucil told me, weirdo. And Lightning told _her_ because she needed someone to supervise her unit, since the major informed her about the official invite, and so on."

_What the hell is Lucil doing just passing information along to Maqui? Was she bored? Did she intend for him to tell me? No. If that had been the case, she could've called me herself. Better yet, Light could've just told me…_

At that thought, Hope's eyebrow developed an angry twitch.

"Maqui," he asked between gritted teeth, "did it occur to you that if my wife wanted me to _know_ she was coming, she would've told me herself?"

"I thought she did!" Maqui whined, trying futilely to wrench Hope's fingers from his shirt. "Lucil didn't say you didn't know, she was just calling to vent about having to take over Lightning's unit for the week. I asked _why_ because I was being considerate – you're supposed to humor women when they talk about their day!"

"Huh?" Curiosity got the better of Hope in an instant, and he sat back, releasing his grip to simply stare at Maqui as if observing a strange phenomenon. He cocked his head to one side, eyes asking a dozen questions at once.

_Why was she calling you to chat? Did you expect it? You actually care about humoring her? How long has this been going on?_

Squirming under the childlike gaze being aimed at him, Maqui finally seemed to process the reaction. He looked pointedly at the metal hull, his bangs covering his eyes as he muttered, "I… I like her, okay? And it's too early to know for sure, but I think she might like me, too. S-so we've been keeping in touch. Pretty lame story, huh?"

Hands clamped down on Maqui's shoulders, and he looked up to see a ridiculous grin plastered on Hope's face.

"Maq, I really hope it works out," he beamed. "You'd be adorable together – taking shots at each other all the time and having to make up, so you'd _never_ run out of fixer-upper projects!"

"Heh, you're just stuck in that 'happily married' afterglow…" Maqui retorted, but his face burned scarlet all the same.

Standing to his feet, Hope stretched and dusted himself off.

"Guess I'd better head over to Central before it gets any later. You coming?"

Maqui hopped up and strode toward the rungs, waving behind him as he replied, "Nah, I'd just feel out of place – my time's better spent attaching those radiance panels. I would've stuck with you if I thought you needed the support, but it sounds like you've already handled the worst of it. When I wanna mourn my own losses, I'll do it in my own way, on my own time. And I don't feel like mourning today, Hope."

_Neither do I_, Hope thought, his shoulders sagging as he considered the shadow of sadness that would undoubtedly be cast over an otherwise happy reunion.

No, he didn't want to mourn, but he didn't have a choice. The former l'Cie would be in the spotlight this time, guests of honor standing before a growing population of survivors, but at the same time they would be forced to feel the weight of millions lost, beyond their ability to save.

Millions, plus two friends. Hope just couldn't accept it. He decided that Maqui was lucky to have the choice.

"Dude, I thought you said you were in a hurry!" Maqui shouted up at him from below, and Hope jumped at the shift back to reality.

"I-I'm moving!" he called back, stumbling over to the rungs as he regained his bearings.

"Good, 'cause this coffee's not gonna drink itself!"

* * *

Lightning shuddered at the slowly spreading dampness on her shoulder, trying not to let her discomfort show. It wasn't Serah's fault that Milo decided to change his napping location on the flight – she cast a glance at the dozing woman seated opposite – and it wasn't the first time he had done so. Aside from the drool, she honestly didn't mind the way her nephew occasionally decided to be clingy with his aunt. He bore a striking resemblance to a toddling, rosy-cheeked Serah. A certain amount of fondness toward him was only natural.

Nodding off herself as she became immersed in memories, Lightning got a face-full of his wild pink curls and awoke with a start. She recalled a previous desire to ask Sazh about their progress along the flight path, considering she'd begun to notice the grayish cabin light shift with the arrival of full morning, but calling out to the cockpit would surely wake Milo and Serah.

Thankfully, Dajh ducked into the cabin a minute later, a folded piece of paper in hand as he awkwardly made his way to the seat beside her. Unlike Hope at that age, it seemed his growth spurt had hit him all at once, and the beanpole boy was more coordinated on a chocobo than his own two feet these days. He finally got to the seat and collapsed into it, limbs sprawling in front of him.

Unfolding and waving his marked map before her eyes, he gave her a knowing look and a wry grin. "I figured you guys would want another update. Got destination fever, Mrs. Estheim?"

"Your father would smack you if he knew you said that, Imp Katzroy," she chided, but a tiny smirk played on her face. "You _know_ I kept my name, and I still haven't forgiven you for helping NORA with their honeymoon sabotage."

"Heh, ya can't fool me," Dajh retorted. "We saved the day, an' you know it!"

_It's not that I didn't enjoy being stranded with Hope for an extra few days while he fixed the auto-pilot problem, and the springs out there were amazing, but… why do people do these things without my consent?!_

Lightning knew why, of course. She had never been one for taking more than a week of leave at the most, and Hope would never have asked more of her himself, no matter how much he might have wanted it. It was to his credit that his friends would go to such lengths to grant him that wish.

_If I'd known how little we'd be seeing of each other, I would've taken more._

Heaving a sigh, and shoving down an irritating mixture of longing and frustration that had bubbled up in her stomach again, she turned her attention toward the map. "Since you've come out here to report, how much further is it to the Settlement?"

"Got a little over an hour left," Dajh offered, pointing to their current position as penciled on the map and tracing the remaining path to the destination. "I'd get s'more sleep if I were you. Gotta look your best, right?" With a mischievous wink and a flash of his dazzling smile, he got up and staggered back across the cabin to the cockpit.

_That boy has been around NORA's antics and breeding chocobos for far too long, _Lightning mused, _but at least his teasing is clever. _It reminded her of Hope, a little.

Chasing that thought, Lightning lifted the fingers of her free hand to her eyes, tracing over the dark circles she knew to be there. As much as Dajh was a joker, she couldn't blame him for advising her to sleep; he was probably worried. Her sleep schedule was shot _again_ and people were beginning to notice, but there was nothing she could do about Hope's routine – gone for a month or so, back for a few days, and gone again – or its inherent effect on her. He would return just after she had finally adjusted to sleeping alone, she would quickly readjust to his presence, and then he would leave. Lather, rinse, repeat the misery. But the alternative of never seeing him was unimaginable, and she knew the project was vital for Fang and Vanille, along with being an opportunity for Hope to develop real-world leadership skills.

Lightning lowered her hand to clench it tightly around her pendant, squeezing her tired eyes shut. The more time passed, the less she could deny it. Thanks to his upbringing, his experiences, his contacts, and his confounding tendency to sympathise with people, Hope was already a fledgling diplomat. A recurring fear played itself over in her head: that the end of this project would not signal the end of his involvement in Settlement affairs.

She knew it was selfish and simple-minded to wish he belonged to her alone, or even to their family and friends alone, but that couldn't change her feelings.

_I guess there are worse things, _she thought ruefully. _He could've enlisted and gotten himself killed. This way, as long as we can keep him from getting sucked in and corrupted by those damned PSICOM officials…_

A small squeak arrested Lightning's attention and her eyes shot open. Milo was squirming on her lap, his face contorted from either discomfort or a bad dream, but she patted his back and stroked his curls until he turned his head inboard to fall asleep against her chest once more.

"Then again, they aren't all bad," Lightning whispered to herself. After all, Milo's namesake, Miles Sabin, was primarily responsible for making the armistice possible, and Hope worked for the colonel. Hope had his own allies, utterly apart from her.

"Sis," Serah's soft voice called, "do you need a break? I think I've napped enough for both of us, and I probably shouldn't sleep right up to landing. Snow's gonna make fun of my travel bed-head."

Sighing, Lightning let out a soft snort and ran a hand through her own limp hair, trying to shake some life back into it. "I'm fine. Milo's just settled down, so you can go back to sleep. We all know Snow's going to be overjoyed no matter how you look."

It was bright enough for Serah's concern to be visible in her features, but she seemed to let it go, smiling instead. "You know, if you concentrate on his heartbeat, you'll stop thinking and drift right off – sort of like hypnotism."

Lightning raised an eyebrow. "That sounds… freaky," she began dubiously, "but I'll give it a try."

Shortly after she set to the task, counting the shallow thumps of the child's heart like a metronome beat against her, Lightning felt her eyelids slip closed.

_So this is how Serah keeps it together._

* * *

Hope had taken the hour and a half long walk to Central alone, wondering all the while what sort of scene he would stumble upon when he arrived. None of the usual early morning crowd or the street vendors were out to distract him from his thoughts, allowing them to grow more and more vivid. He mainly envisioned the cluster of his loved ones happily waiting for him, smiling and hugging him the instant he set foot on the worksite – and then Lightning would kiss him. Alternately, he would kiss her first and then hug everyone. But his imagination had gotten gradually more realistic the closer he got to Central, and by the time he found himself staring up at the familiar west gate, he had come to terms with his final conclusion.

They probably hadn't arrived yet. He would be the one waiting. Even last-ditch efforts of his mind to reassure him that Snow might also be waiting with him were shot down.

_There's no way in hell Snow would get here this early if he didn't have to._

The guards at the gate on day shift checked his ID, poking fun at him as usual – they, at least, looked refreshed and ready for the day.

"You know, kid director," the first of them laughed, gesturing at his wild hair, "they make gel for taming that bed-head."

Hope slapped his palm to his forehead and sighed, waiting for the mocking offender with his distinctive blue eyes to give the card back.

_Why does this guy always give me a hard time?_

The second chimed in, "That or clippers. You could mow it down to stubble in less than a minute!"

"My wife likes it this way, thanks," he retorted, snatching his ID and half-grinning before he strode through the gate.

Hope was just thankful that Maqui's coffee had kicked in, or sleep-deprived grouchiness might have made it difficult to take the good-natured jabs at his personal appearance – a universal staple of military camaraderie, he'd discovered. In any case, he raked his hands through his hair as he wove his way easily through the facility, scanning his access badge at several doors along the route to the worksite. The first couple of weeks he'd gotten lost and ended up following everyone else, but now the route was second-nature, so much so that he usually spent that time reflecting on objectives for the day while his feet did the rest.

As far as he could discern, it was going to be a typical morning until the others arrived. Since Maqui had reminded him of the date, the rest of the information associated with Colonel Sabin's invitation came flooding back. Hope knew there was nothing on the schedule until midday, when the colonel would be holding a combination meeting and luncheon to review the Landing Festival plans. At that point, the group of former l'Cie would find out the specific order of events for the two-day period, and he knew from the previous year's schedule that the official mourning ceremony would be just before sunset.

Times and events and people all whirling around in his head, Hope had scanned through the final door and walked several meters into the open-air central enclosure before he noticed something felt off about his everyday worksite.

He stopped and looked around the silent area, blinking at the floating crystalline particles that sometimes deceived his eyes, but there was no mistaking it.

He was absolutely alone.

"Of course I'm alone," Hope muttered to himself, leaning heavily against one of the hulking metallic supports that stretched up to Cocoon's underside. "How could I be stupid enough to forget the engineers have the day off, like everyone else?"

It gradually occurred to him, as he wandered from stanchion to stanchion, that he didn't think of himself as part of 'everyone else,' and by extension assumed that those he was responsible for were also different – were more like soldiers than regular citizens.

_I can't expect them to be workaholics like me. They have families and friends to grieve with today. I don't have anything else to do but wait right now._

Looking up through the constantly stirring crystal dust, he picked out the point in the pillar where Fang and Vanille were supposed to be. It was a dark region, roughly halfway up and too far away to peer into clearly, but it gave him something to focus on. Hope took the few steps from the crescent of stanchions to the pillar and placed his palms against its cool surface, his neck straining to keep his gaze fixed directly above. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd greeted them – most days he managed a quiet moment to at least say "Hi" when no one was around – but he felt compelled to really speak his mind to them this time, before all the Settlement wrote them off as a loss to grieve, along with Cocoon.

"Fang, Vanille – I'm not mourning, you hear me? I know you're alive in there," he declared, swallowing thickly and lowering his voice before it could crack. "I-I'm sorry about all the construction, but we don't really have a choice. I want you both to be safe, and I can't guarantee that… unless you come back to us."

He stopped at his own flawed reasoning, laughing bitterly as he shook his head. "What am I saying? You probably _know_ something's wrong with Cocoon – maybe you're refusing to come back so it won't collapse. That's what a lot of people think, you know. They want you to stay put, and we want you back. Either way, we'll keep looking out for you, so just… don't give up."

"You really think they can hear you?"

Hope spun at the unexpected response, backing up against the crystal pillar. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "Who's there?" he asked with an edge of suspicion, squinting through the dust.

"Really, Director?" she huffed, sounding exasperated. "Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds. There are live people down here, you know." The girl in question finally stepped into view from the stanchion she'd been behind, waving a hand in his face as though he was deluded. The black R&D lab coat draped over her arm and the reading glasses threw him off at first, but a name finally surfaced.

_That's the girl we call "Z," since it's all the engineers remembered from "Zaidelle" on her nametag, but she did introduce herself. An "A," it starts with an "A"… Alice? No, _Alyssa_ Zaidelle. That's right. The specialist from R&D who spent years researching the crystal structure around Cocoon._

Still, his mouth was too slow to follow his mind.

"You've forgotten my name, huh?" she deadpanned, crossing her arms. "Even when I've been on this project since _before_ day one – you know, making sure the crystal doesn't come crashing down from some engineering blunder…"

"Alyssa!" he blurted, feeling even more idiotic when he extended his hand in greeting but not knowing what else to do. "I didn't expect anyone to be here. Aren't you off for the day, too?"

_Great. I promised myself not to let the staff catch me talking to Fang and Vanille._

Quirking an eyebrow, she shook his hand once before resuming her previous posture – arms crossed defensively. "A day off for your little crew is a prime day for me to spend some uninterrupted quality time with my research subject." She gestured upward in a swirling motion to the gleaming pillar and moon. "But since you're here, talking to its core, I figured it might be worth my time to ask if they had anything to say."

Hope wasn't sure how to read her inquiry, even if he assessed that there was no malicious intent behind it.

"They didn't," he said simply, mentally walling his emotions inside as he kept his gaze impassive. "But the others didn't respond when spoken to either, so that's not surprising. It doesn't mean anything."

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "This is the part where I could bore you with a lecture on the crystal's effects on time and space at the atomic level, but that one would fly right over your head. Or under, perhaps," she remarked, looking far above him as though his consciousness was floating there instead of sitting in his skull. "Can I ask you a personal question, Director?"

Now planted stubbornly before the pillar in the face of her strange attitude, he said with an air of challenge, "Ask away, but I can't guarantee an answer."

"Alright, then," she began, finally bothering to look him in the eye. "All my research indicates that the crystal shell is impenetrable to regular communication, but we do know that energy transfer in the _other_ direction is possible – if it wasn't, we wouldn't have power and this crisis wouldn't have happened. The other researchers in my department usually just spout something about fal'Cie energy having unnatural properties as an explanation for it, but I'm always wondering if we're missing something important, and I'm running out of ways to find out. So I figured it couldn't hurt to ask…" Wavering as though she might lose her chance by wording it wrong, Alyssa paused and looked above him again.

"What was it like, being in crystalstasis?" she asked faintly. "Did you hear anyone on the outside? Did you feel anything?"

_Does she really want to know this for research, or is she worried about something else? Surely she wasn't here when they had Lightning and Snow in custody, so maybe she's just curious about the people involved._

Fumbling through the tangle of his thoughts and words, Hope stammered, "I-I wasn't… well, I didn't stay crystallized for long. And all that time, I was just dreaming. If anyone spoke to me, I don't remember hearing them, but that doesn't prove the shell is one-hundred percent impenetrable..." He ran a nervous hand through his hair, trying to decide whether or not he should tell her more – whether it was wise to mention his strange experience with Lightning in crystalstasis. He still wasn't sure how he felt about trusting anyone within Central, particularly R&D, with information specific to the former l'Cie.

"You wanted to say something else," Alyssa said, cocking her head to the side as she tapped a finger on her chin. "You don't trust me, do you?"

Sighing, Hope pinched the bridge of his nose and stated plainly, "If it helps, it's nothing personal. Years of experience sort of predisposed me to not trust people too easily – even if most of the time I end up trusting them anyway. Pathetic, huh?" He smiled sadly at her, trying to decide if this would be a stupid mistake, or a chance to make another ally.

Alyssa clenched her hands into fists at her sides and huffed in frustration, "How did you just manage to answer me with 'no' and 'yes' at the same time?" Calming herself, she lowered her voice to a murmur. "Listen, if you tell me the rest, I'm under no obligation to report it to the staff. They don't butt in on my research anyway – usually look at me like I'm crazy if I bring up a theory that's too far-out. Does that sound reasonable, Director?"

_Gotta admit, if anyone could figure out Fang and Vanille's predicament – no, the whole situation with Cocoon – it would be this girl. Who am I to hold up her progress?_

"It does," Hope agreed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and leveled her with a flat stare. "But as a second condition… please promise not to laugh."

"Can do!" Alyssa declared excitedly, immediately pulling a notepad from somewhere in her lab coat and settling down at the base of the stanchion opposite him. She took a pencil from behind her ear and began to scribble. Without looking up, she ordered, "You can start anytime. It's harder for me to laugh when I'm writing since I can't see your goofy expressions."

Choking back an indignant gasp, Hope slid to the floor and rested his arms on his knees. "You're not going to believe this—"

"Try me," she cut across him, not missing a beat and still doggedly staring at her notebook.

"R-right," Hope stammered. He shook his head and concentrated, attempting to start again. "Well, a few years ago—"

"You'll have to be more specific," Alyssa cut in again.

Hope immediately fired back, "I'll never get _anything_ out, specific or otherwise, if you don't stop interrupting me."

"Apologies," she said, looking up only briefly to shoot him a critical glare through her glasses. "Now, please tell me exactly when this happened so I can correlate it with my data. I wasn't asking you to be specific for no good reason."

Feeling himself sulk internally, Hope swallowed his irritation and tried to think more clearly. "It was almost six years ago, in August… yes, right after that supply trip, and not long after Snow woke up from crystalstasis. I'd had a pretty awful relapse from the Focus strain virus, and Serah put me into a medically induced coma. After I woke up, I found out that I'd been under for three weeks, but during that time I, er… I dreamed something impossible. No one really believed it was more than a dream except me."

Alyssa urged him to continue as soon as he stalled, asking insistently, "So you believe it was real, yes? What happened that was so different from a dream?"

"There are just things I can't explain," Hope continued, pressing his fingers into his scalp. "I dreamed that I ran into Lightning – no, that I _invaded_ the dream that Light was having in crystalstasis. That's what we both decided was going on, while we were in the dream. We were in Bodhum, and she showed me her house and some birthday cake she'd had on her twenty-first. They were things I had no idea existed, so I couldn't have just dreamed them up on my own!"

"And how could you tell they were accurate, if you knew nothing about them?" Alyssa asked immediately, still scribbling away.

Hope took a deep breath. "I told Serah what I'd dreamed, and she confirmed that the things I described were true to life, right down to the icing on the cake. I think she wanted to believe me, but it hurt too much at the time for her to dwell on it. When I finally mentioned it to Light, though, she didn't remember anything about the events of that dream, so I really don't know."

"Serah…" Alyssa trailed off, tapping her pencil as she pondered something. "That's the younger Farron sister, right? The one they broke out of R&D along with Snow Villiers, right before the forces split?"

"That's correct," Hope answered warily, unwilling to disclose too much information given the circumstances mentioned. He wondered again if it had been a mistake, telling this lab girl personal information, even so many years later.

Surprisingly, Alyssa giggled. "If you're worried about my connections to any of that, don't be. They overhauled R&D and fired half the lab personnel for unethical practices surrounding that case, so in a twisted sense I _owe _Serah for getting this job opportunity back then. I wish I could thank her in person."

Hope narrowed his eyes and asked her outright, "You didn't come in here with some ulterior motive to get to Serah through me, did you? If you did, that's pretty rude, considering they're going to be worn out from the flight."

Suddenly sitting bolt upright, she gaped at him, wide-eyed. "They're coming here _now_?" she practically squeaked, grabbing onto his hands. "Oh please, please introduce me to them! I mean, it's amazing that I got to interview you, but if I could talk to all the others—"

"Hold it!" Hope cut in, wrenching his hands free as he abruptly stood to his feet. He dusted his pants out of habit, adopting the professional tone he typically reserved for military higher-ups as he explained, "My family doesn't need to be involved with operations in this place. They are coming here by request, for an official function, not to be dragged into this project by association."

_Ugh, why did I have to open my big mouth? It's a sensitive enough issue having one former l'Cie working close to the pillar when half the leadership wonders if we might sabotage Cocoon's power to free our friends. It's taken me years to gain credibility with PSICOM, going all the way back to Vargus at the Aerma outpost, and it's still shaky at best._

Alyssa slowly got up, biting her lip beneath burning eyes. Whether she was trying to contain anger or just the urge to cry, he could not tell, but when she opened her mouth, he suspected it was the latter.

"I'm not trying to be a nuisance," she said, her voice unsteady as she suppressed the emotion behind it, "but don't you think they care about your friends in the pillar as much as you do? Don't you think they might want to work with me, if I could find some way to make contact?"

_Why exactly does it mean so much to you?_

Sighing, Hope stuffed his hands back into his pockets before he could fidget. "Look, I'm positive they care, but do you have any idea how strange it would seem for all the former l'Cie to suddenly get chummy with the researcher assigned to my project? It's asking for trouble."

"Where's this trouble?" a booming voice announced across the room, bouncing eerily off the walls of the enclosure. At least, as eerily as it was possible for someone like Snow to sound.

Hope immediately took off at a jog toward the source, spotting the towering man easily and tackling him in a hug. "It's been ages, hasn't it?" he teased, gratefully accepting the chokehold that immediately followed.

"Hell yes! Longest three days of my life, so I've upgraded this reunion in your honor," Snow declared, throwing Hope away from him in a spin that landed him squarely against a laughing Sazh and Dajh for a combination hug attack.

"Nice o' you to dress up for us, son." The grinning pilot slapped him on the back and turned him around yet again.

"Let's not forget the ladies," Dajh said conspiratorially in Hope's ear, and at that moment both Serah and Lightning came into view from the doorway behind Snow, with a sleeping Milo locked securely in his aunt's arms.

"I-I didn't—" Hope stammered, stumbling forward with a shove from the Katzroys. He found that he'd lost the ability to form words.

On the contrary, Serah seemed to think she could squeeze them out of him, if the force of her embrace was any indication.

"I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but we've missed you!" she gushed. "We even got Milo to say your name a few days ago!"

"I never stop missing you guys," Hope said, patting her head and trying not to betray just how deep that sentiment was rooted in his core, but it was nigh impossible when he locked eyes with Lightning from over Serah's shoulder.

She seemed worn down, and he knew it wasn't just from the obvious lack of sleep. There was no hint of anything else amiss in her appearance – not in the deep blue cap-sleeved blouse or the perfectly creased summer khakis she wore, and not in her neatly twisted hair falling over her shoulder. But it was obvious in her inability to stifle the aching relief that permeated her carefully controlled exterior. Her eyes were starved, and he hated it.

_I know that look – I never wanted to see it again, not on Mom's face or anyone's. I'm… I'm turning into my father, damn it!_

So when Hope released his sister and caught Lightning in an awkward hug, content to breathe in her scent while trying not to disturb Milo, the first words that tumbled out were a whispered reassurance.

"You look beautiful."

* * *

Lightning was overwhelmed. Most of her instincts were telling her to grab Hope and run far away to a quiet place where they could just collapse, but all those thoughts were arrested when he spoke.

"Liar," she muttered, laughing softly. "Nice try, though."

Hope stood back to meet her gaze, and she blinked in surprise at the sadness and guilt in his eyes despite his smile.

_He sees right through me._

"Sorry. I'll come up with more original material next time," he attempted to joke, and Lightning blinked away uncertainly, only to notice that the others had begun talking amongst themselves, giving them some brief privacy.

"There won't be too many more 'next times'," she offered, trying to be supportive. She wasn't terribly convinced of the statement's validity, but she wished it nonetheless.

"Let's hope not," he whispered back. "I won't stand for letting this get to you." His eyes were still cloudy with unspoken apologies.

_I don't hold it against you, Hope – you know that. _

Lightning shrugged and cracked a smile, wanting more than anything to dispel his self-inflicted pain. "It's just been a rough few days."

"Or weeks, or months…" Hope sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. Between them, Milo stirred, and Hope let her go to grin down at the small boy. He was frowning in his sleep.

"I can take him for a bit, if you want," he offered.

Lightning shot him a look of utter disbelief. "Don't you think if I could let him go, I would've given him to Serah already? We tried to swap him when we landed, but he screamed like a demon until I took him back. Besides, he'd drool on your clothes," she huffed, giving Hope a once-over but quickly lowering her gaze as a blush crept across her cheeks. "They're… a nice fit, by the way. More professional."

_Flattering, too. _Without the baggy coveralls, Lightning wasn't too sure how she felt about everyone else getting hints of what she knew to be underneath, but she couldn't help appreciating the new look.

"Hey, who's_ this_ now?" They heard Dajh suddenly spout the question in Hope's direction, apparently addressed to him by the look he was giving. Sazh ushered forward a very sheepish girl with cropped, sandy hair and glasses, who stood smiling and waving awkwardly in the midst of them.

"I-I'm Alyssa Zaidelle, and I just work here…" she stuttered.

"She's the researcher on our project," Hope explained, his eyebrows briefly crinkling in annoyance before he wiped his expression clean – it gave the amusing impression that he wanted to measure up to the standards of his 'uniform.' Lightning felt a strong urge to laugh at his sudden mood shift, but she was more interested in hearing him soldier on with formality.

"I didn't actually plan on this, but she was dying to meet everyone," Hope added, gesturing toward her with both arms. "So, everyone, meet Alyssa."

"The pleasure's all mine!" she beamed, shaking every hand that was offered with remarkable enthusiasm, Serah's in particular. Briefly, Lightning wondered if the girl really knew enough about them to be so irrationally pleased, but she saw clear acknowledgement cross Alyssa's face upon observing how closely Hope stood beside her.

"So _this_ is your wife," she remarked, giggling all the sudden. "You did say she was _dangerously_ beautiful." Past Alyssa, as she tentatively touched the rosy curls on Milo's head, Dajh had clamped his hands over his mouth to keep from cracking up, and Lightning rolled her eyes. The teen looked like he might bust a rib when Alyssa continued wistfully, "Oh, but you never mentioned a baby—"

"He's our nephew," Lightning interrupted curtly, feeling the same annoyance she assumed had crept up on Hope minutes before. The only thing more irritating than the over-friendly girl was the blush trying to overtake her own face again.

_I should've known it was a bad call, carrying around this pink-haired kid._

Across from them, Serah chimed in, "Ah, yes, that one's mine!"

"And mine!" Snow announced proudly, swooping in to finally relieve Lightning of her burden, though of course it set Milo into a fit. He awoke with a whiny string of babble, the volume of which could prove beyond all doubt exactly whose child he was.

"W-well, he's just precious," Alyssa graciously forced out, wincing at the occasional shrill syllable. Snow had apparently discovered that tossing his son in the air and catching him made it difficult for the boy to fuss, and eventually Milo stopped trying. A couple of minutes later, he was laughing instead.

Lightning's jaw dropped in disbelief, but her brow furrowed as she stretched out her sore arm, mulling over her unnecessary suffering. "If you had a trick like that up your sleeve, Snow, I would've appreciated the assistance when we landed."

"Heh, didn't want to make a scene in front of the colonel. It was already a big deal for him to meet you guys at the dock," Snow casually explained, grinning as he perched Milo atop his shoulders, where the boy launched an assault on his bandanna with his tiny fists. "Oh yeah, speaking of all this welcoming stuff, we've gotta head over to lodging. They sent the luggage on ahead." He fished around in his pockets and produced three keycards for guest rooms, which the colonel had explained were prepared for them in advance.

Handing two of the cards off to Sazh and Hope, Snow slapped a heavy hand on Hope's shoulder. "So, fearless leader," he demanded in his heroic voice, "where to?"

"Huh?" Hope asked, staring down at the card clenched tightly in his hand. "You expect _me_ to find the officer housing? I've never actually been there…"

"The colonel totally said you'd know what to do," Dajh pointed out, crossing his arms grumpily. Even at fourteen, Lightning suspected the boy needed a nap after all the excitement of travel.

Hope brought a hand to his forehead, working through the challenge for a long minute. Finally, he looked up and narrowed his eyes at Alyssa.

"You've worked here for a while," he stated, his tone measuring. "Do you know the way?"

A bright smile broke across her face, and she bounced on her feet as she replied, "Absolutely! I know every nook and cranny of Central's complex – consider it a personal tour."

"I'll consider it payment for letting you have your way," Hope sighed, gently twining his fingers with Lightning's as they clustered together and headed for the central enclosure's east exit. At the door, Alyssa donned her black lab coat, and Lightning watched in confusion as Serah flinched, clinging more tightly to Snow's side.

Turning to her sister, she whispered, "Serah, what's wrong?"

"O-oh," Serah stammered, suddenly flustered. "Just surprised me, that's all. Do you think we'll be able to come back here? You know… just to spend a little time with _them_?" She craned her neck to look back at the pillar, indicating Fang and Vanille.

While Lightning knew her sister cared about Vanille, Serah hadn't known her long, and she didn't know Fang at all – something about her question felt off. Even so, Lightning did want to know the answer herself.

"Easy enough – we can ask Hope," Snow casually supplied, as they passed through the door one by one. "He's got access."

Lightning rolled her eyes at his sudden participation in the discussion. _No kidding he's got access, but that's beside the point. I'm pretty sure Serah's worried that it might be against some rule for us to hang around with Fang and Vanille. We _all _had to sign that agreement of non-interference before they would approve Hope's proposal, if you recall, Hero._

Hearing his name, Hope turned to the three of them at his left, the question shining in his eyes before he actually asked, "What's this about my access?"

"It's nothing," Lightning hastily replied, eyeing the researcher in black who continued to lead them through the maze of Central. "We're all wondering how your work is progressing, but that can wait."

A few steps later, as they ascended a short staircase and entered the second level, Alyssa piped up, "This next section of offices belongs to the upper chain of command. They work in the east wing, since it's closest to housing, and from this upper level network of passages they can get to the restricted access second storey of any department. Not surprisingly, enlisted members only have permissions for their respective work spaces."

"So what exactly are _you_, Miss, if you can stroll through officer territory like it's nothin'?" Sazh asked, and Lightning could see the gears cranking in the older man's brain.

Alyssa simply turned her head and smiled brightly, continuing down the path as she explained, "I'm a civilian, of course. I've got the access level of Research and Development. We're a bit different from the other departments, and I'm an odd case myself. The only two people who can restrict my access are Colonel Sabin and the director here."

"I can?" Hope blurted incredulously, and the researcher half-choked on a laugh. She actually stopped, turned, and shook her head at him in a gesture that seemed mostly amused but a tad disappointed.

"Of course you can, Director," she said, wagging a corrective finger in his face. "If at any point I fail in my duties, you can easily inform the colonel and have my access restricted. It was a condition of my joining the team, remember?"

Hope shrugged, acting pointedly noncommittal for some reason Lightning could not discern. "Not really," he replied with a wicked gleam in his eye, "but now that you mention it, I guess you're in trouble if we don't get to our rooms in a timely manner."

"I _meant_ if I failed on the project," Alyssa sighed, rolling her eyes as she led them on. "I'm no one's personal assistant, Director."

_And you wonder why people tease you,_ Lightning thought to herself, curious just how comfortable he had become with the many staff members, military or otherwise, that he worked with in Central. It was a new dynamic, watching him come out of his shell around people she'd never met.

The group had come to collective silence in the face of Alyssa's knowledge of _everything_ about the facility, quietly following the researcher as she led them around several twists and turns. She knew exactly where they were in relation to any given points of interest, the construction and renovation dates of every department space, and the history of which notable personnel had inhabited which offices. Serah and Sazh were far too wise to interrupt, and Dajh had begun to physically display his fatigue, slouching as he dragged his feet along and frequently leaning against his father's shoulder. Even Snow kept his mouth shut, concentrating instead on maintaining Milo's balance on his shoulders – the boy was still happily employed with chewing on the tied ends of his bandanna.

Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, they all stepped through a thick set of double-doors and into bright but indirect daylight. A covered, glass-walled walkway stretched before them.

"This is the upper tier of the two-storey passage connecting the east wing to the housing complex, refitted with glass three years ago," Alyssa explained, her purely professional voice maintaining its tour guide quality. "Research indicated that even brief exposure to sunlight in the facility improved morale, which is why the colonel approved this change. Enlisted members follow the lower pathway to their barracks, which are all on the first floor."

Lightning nodded along with the others, vaguely noting that Serah was awfully keen on their surroundings – her manner continued to be that of an intruder mapping an exit to safety, memorizing landmarks for future reference. There had been nothing particularly fascinating along the path thus far to make Serah look around so much, and Lightning's own eyes had been drawn to many of the same details that Serah's were: locations of fire extinguishers or possible surveillance equipment, names on placards at office doors, and even air vents in the ceilings. It was a basic strategy she had used on so many missions herself that it came as second nature, but it surprised her to see her sister using it here, and in such an instinctive way.

_Is she still afraid of PSICOM, even with the colonel running things? And where has she used this before? It's obvious that she's doing it on purpose, and with some skill._

"This is it!" Alyssa announced, some of her earlier cheerfulness resurfacing as they exited the far end of the walkway and entered a pristine lobby. Having never been in officer quarters before, Lightning was surprised to find it nothing like she had expected. The lobby was spartan, functional, and almost monochrome, containing simple furniture and a single painting of Eden on the back wall – nothing lavish to suggest that the officers were being pampered. Hallways stretched left, right, and forward from the lobby, the setup more like that of a large hotel.

Still, by the time they had travelled down the central hall and made a right to reach their rooms, Lightning had counted very few doors, leading her to deduce that the apartments within were much larger than typical enlisted barracks.

At the end of the hall, Alyssa asked them to check their keycards for room numbers and collect their luggage from the tidy stack waiting for them. "This hallway is set aside for guests at all times," she explained, "but I don't know which rooms are yours, obviously."

"We're over here, babe," Snow declared, tugging his wife toward a room on the left labeled 4E. Seemingly in on the change, Milo watched his mother with interest as she hauled her broken-in duffel from the pile with a grunt of effort. He began to beat his tiny fists against his father's head, squealing insistently in tempo, "Da-da, ged it!"

"Oh brother, now he's got his own cheering squad," Hope remarked with a light laugh.

Snorting, Lightning shook her head and muttered, "More like slave driver. He's definitely been practicing."

"On you, I take it?" he asked, smiling warmly as he released his grip on her. He pulled the keycard from his pocket and placed it in her hand. There was no mistaking the playful flicker in his eyes that said, _I remember the last time I gave you my key._

She suddenly felt shy, a wave of heat washing over her face and trickling down her neck. For a fraction of a second, Lightning wondered if it was because he favored her so openly in front of a stranger. Either way, she couldn't just stand for letting her emotions take control.

"Kid's a brave one, I'll give him that," she quickly replied, approaching the last door on the right with purpose and – thankfully – matching the number on the door with that on his keycard right off. At the same time, Sazh had moved to the door just down from hers and done the same. He propped a sleepily sagging Dajh against the doorframe while retrieving their bags, and the tall boy promptly slid to the ground, resting his head on his knees.

After watching their actions with clear concern, Hope leaned against the wall and checked his watch. "Well, we've got the luncheon at noon, so that gives everyone a couple of hours to rest and freshen up. Alyssa, would you be able to meet us in the lobby at eleven-thirty, or should I call security to take us over?"

"Page me at fifteen after," she replied coolly. "I shouldn't have any other obligations."

Hope nodded once in acknowledgement and added politely, "If something does come up, don't worry about it. We appreciate the assistance."

"Understood, Director." Smiling freely, the researcher bowed once toward the group as she said in parting, "Welcome to PSICOM Central, everyone!" before hustling away.

Sazh wagged his head once her footfalls had faded entirely, rubbing the heel of his hand between his tired eyes. "Man, I hope that brain o' yours ain't too full to hold all the stuff she just spouted. You gotta process this much info on a daily basis, son?"

"Oh no," Hope laughed, "I don't. Alyssa's not on the site that often. Besides, I think she's having an interesting morning – she doesn't usually get to show honored guests around." He choked out a laugh but stopped himself, bringing a hand to his chin in thought. "It is the Day of Mourning, after all. It's a big day."

"And on that note," Serah announced with motherly authority, "we're putting our little adventurer down for a proper nap. See you all in two hours!" They waved and quickly disappeared into their room with the snuffling boy.

Dajh raised his head at the sound of the door clicking shut, mumbling tiredly, "A nap… yeah, they got the right idea." Chuckling as he lifted his son to his feet, Sazh unlocked their door and began to haul Dajh inside.

"Rest up, kids!" he called back, and the door closed behind them.

Lightning rolled her eyes as she slid the keycard into their own lock. "That old man is going to call us kids till we're fifty, isn't he?"

"I'd bet on it," Hope replied, chuckling. "Old Man Sazh can call me whatever he wants, though. He doesn't get too many opportunities."

"Right." Lightning's vision briefly clouded, her chest feeling tight as Hope's words forced her to revisit thoughts of his absence. She shook her head to clear them and brushed past Hope to scoop up her rucksack, only to find it wasn't there.

He snorted beside her, giving the rucksack a shake in front of her surprised face before slinging it onto his back. "It's mine now," he challenged, "and I wanna see if you've packed a surprise for me." Somehow, he managed to dodge her first swipe for the bag, tacking on wistfully, "I wonder if it's frilly, or maybe just sheer…"

Growling indignantly, she shoved him backward toward the door, but he spun round and used the handle to propel himself inside. He hit the bed and sprawled on his stomach, dropping the rucksack and laughing so hard that it looked painful.

_Why does he find it so amusing to rile me up?_ Lightning thought, sighing at her husband's convulsions but unable to fight the smirk that pulled at her mouth. Slowly, one inch at a time, her eyes were drinking in his form, and it took her several seconds to register that he'd stopped laughing and propped his head up on one hand, watching her intently.

"Something wrong?" he asked, the innocence of his tone in absolute contradiction to his darkening green eyes. A shiver shot up her spine while everything else burned, and she mentally derided herself for the utter lack of control. After all, it was a frightening but wondrous occasion when Lightning Farron lowered her defenses. And those occasions had been exceptionally rare in recent months, always catching her unprepared.

"I-I really should—" she fumbled, cutting off as Hope bounced to his feet and swept by her. He flipped the deadbolt on the door – an extra precaution, on top of the automatic locks – and immediately returned to catch her in his arms.

"Better?" he asked, eyes dancing, and she was drawn in by sheer magnetism.

That very instant, just when she pressed into Hope with the express goal of kissing him senseless, her lips and tongue already at his neck, there was a timid rapping on the door. The two of them froze, ears straining to hear past their own pounding hearts.

"Uh… Miss Lightning?" Dajh called hesitantly through the closed door. "I-I think I got your bag by mistake. Any chance you got mine in there?"

_Oh goddess._

All the color drained from her face, and she cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Let me check, Dajh." She made her way to the rucksack with rigid determination, prying it opening to see that, sure enough, the cheerful chocobo emblem on a bright red boy's t-shirt was grinning up at her.

_It's not his fault. It isn't even Sazh's fault for grabbing the wrong bag – they did look awfully similar. But he's going to feel guilty if he sees me acting this uptight._

Her eye twitched in frustration as she stuffed the shirt back inside and closed the bag, hauling it toward the door while trying to collect herself.

Which was a fair challenge, so long as Hope continued to smother his obvious laughter behind his hands.

After one more deep breath, Lightning unlocked and opened the door, wiping her face of emotion as she extended the rucksack to the teenager.

"Here. It was an easy mistake to make. Next time I'll mark my bag more clearly."

Dajh seemed to be in a hurry, understandably – ducking his head, he immediately thrust her rucksack at the doorway and grabbed his own.

"I swear I didn't touch anything," he mumbled, darting back to his room as quickly as his long legs could take him.

_Well, that was fun_, Lightning thought to herself sarcastically. She closed and locked the door once again, glowering at Hope as he watched her. He had calmed down and taken a seat on the floor, but the grin on his face was unnaturally stretched.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself," she growled.

Snickering, Hope simply replied, "Not as much as Dajh, I'm sure."

Without missing a beat, Lightning crossed the room and unceremoniously dumped the rucksack's contents onto his head.

"Are you kidding?" she exclaimed, arms stiff at her sides. "He's probably scarred!"

"I can see why," Hope teased, holding up a pair of not-so-flattering, threadbare cotton underwear. "Seriously, are these boot camp leftovers?" He snapped them over his hair like a shower cap and leaned back on his hands, aiming another cheeky grin at her.

Lightning made to snatch the panties from his head, but he grabbed her arm and dragged her into the pile of clothes with him.

"Oops," he said, daring to chuckle in her flustered face. He yanked the underwear from his head with one hand and got a grip on the front of her blouse with the other, pulling her down for a drawn-out kiss. She could still feel him smiling, his fingers working down the row of buttons on her shirt with practiced agility.

Only slightly appeased, Lightning threatened teasingly under the curtain of her hair around their faces, "I might be cranky enough to strangle you, Estheim."

"Hey, you married that name," he protested. "You can't blame me if I miss playing around with you, Light." Pausing, he twisted a lock of her hair around two of his fingers, studying her face from the corner of his eye. "But if you still insist on choking me… hm, I _have_ heard it can enhance the experience." He laughed again at her wide-eyed expression. "Just don't make me pass out, please. You've gotta get me up at eleven, so it's your call."

_My call, huh. Wait, why am I even considering this? _

She felt an overwhelming urge to slap herself for entertaining the thought.

"Where do you come up with these ideas?" Lightning forced out from her suddenly parched throat, her entire being trapped in the uncomfortable position between embarrassment and eagerness.

Hope just smirked. "Does it matter?" Pulling her face down so that their cheeks touched, warm and inviting, he whispered, "There are no limits unless we want them."

* * *

**Endnote: Oh yes, the tradition continues. Beta-roomie left me a SLEW of fun commentary in her edits, so please enjoy!**

**During my introductory section: "This is like getting punched in the face with descriptions. Not a bad thing, but kind of amusing :P"**

**When Hope remarks that Fang might whack him with her spear: "omg she totally would too :D"**

**When Hope thinks to himself that the pants are too fitted: "dat ass ;P"**

**After Maqui spills the beans about Lucil: "I SHIP IT *heart*"**

**When Hope facepalmed after the teasing from the gate guard: "Maybe he could have kept that super-fashionable tie headband :P"**

**Right after Hope explained that his wife liked it that way: "agreed, thank you Light. Man, I'm waiting for the eventual 'HUR HUR DON'T YOU MEAN HUSBAND' gay-joke jab (cos of his hair) so Lightning can totally overhear and UTTERLY DESTROY THEM and then Hope & Light can have like, sex on their unconscious bodies (OR Y'KNOW, WHATEVER.) and then Hope can whip his hair around dramatically, stare into the camera, and whisper, 'Loreal' *heart*" [Hthar-go ahead and die laughing, I sure did]**

**When Hope then raked his hands through his hair while walking through the facility: "as he murmured, 'Civilian, b*tches'."**

**When Hope mentioned saying "Hi" to Fang and Vanille every day: "the fact that he does this is so freakin' adorable"**

**When Alyssa mentioned wishing she could thank Serah in person: "No Nope noooo just stop."**

**When Alyssa suggests that they would want to work with her: "omg shut up you don't even KNOW them stop acting like you know how they would feel you don't know anything GOD KAREN WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID." [Hthar-yes, that is verbatim rant]**

**When Serah says they got Milo to say Hope's name: "Either that or 'whore,' we couldn't really tell. :P"**

**When Lightning comments on Hope's outfit: "DAT ASS."**

**When Lightning bemoans the mistake of carrying her pink-haired nephew: "the clear offspring of two blonds *deadpan stare* (yes I know recessive genes exist; I am the red-haired child of two brunettes, whatever, LET ME BE SASSY.)"**

**When Dajh remarks that Hope should know the way: "Wow, someone's a sassy grumpy-gills. How 'bout you check that attitude, pint-size, until YOU defeat giant monster demon things and bring about the collapse of an entire planet and thousands of people, okay? Go watch Spongebob. beta has no patience for entitled preteens"**

**After Serah asked Lightning about if they could visit Fang and Vanille: "SERAH YOU ARE A LYING LIAR WHO LIES AND LET ME LOVE YOOOOOOU :("**

**After Lightning's thoughts about how Snow should recall them signing non-interference agreements: "she thought, with the same mental derision she would use when saying 'douche-nozzle'. :P"**

**When Hope suggests he could restrict Alyssa's access for not being timely enough: "Hahaha yes, casually misuse your powers, please."**

**After Hope gave Lightning the room key: "oh this is gonna end with a sex scene, isn't it -_-"**

**When Hope speculates over whether she has something frilly or sheer: "hahaha I KNEW IT"**

**When Dajh asks about his bag through the door: "LOL AWKWARD. XD Sazh totally sent him on purpose, that troll."**

**After Hope stuck the undies on his head: "….really? Dude, has [insert Hthar's hubby] done this? Is this a thing people do? -_-"**

**After Hope's closing line at the very end of the chapter: "or if the law wants them. Just FYI. XP also now I'm worried about the porny implications of this scene, and GOD BLESS YOU for not writing it out, because it would tell me way too much that I don't want to know…"**


	2. Signals

**A/N: As promised, your first weekly update! I'm a little sorry to say that this chapter is more of the transition/informative persuasion, but when I initially had it combined with what is now Chapter 3, that monster was WAY too long! My beta-roomie bit my head off for it 0.0 Anyway, I said that to say that there is more action in the next installment – worry not. Oh and a HUGE thank you to all the reviewers, anons included of course, who took the time to give me feedback last chapter! I hope to hear from you all again :D**

**Before we begin, a couple of useful tidbits:**

***Commander: while this is technically a Navy rank, it can also be used as a positional title that does NOT correspond to a specific rank, and that is my purpose here.**

***Commandant: not to be confused with Commander; in certain nations' armed forces, this can be a rank, but in the case of the US Army, it is a positional title generally used for the highest ranking official (president) over a military academy/university. I've chosen to use it as a positional title for Colonel Sabin because PSICOM wishes to revamp its image to be less like some authoritarian regime and more like a governing body which uses its power for security and progress. ALSO, the term "Director" as originally used for the positional title of PSICOM's highest level leader is more appropriate for civilians vice military. Thus, its use in the sequel with regard to Academy was more fitting.**

Signals (in code)

[Songs for Chapter 2: "Potato Girl" – Our Lady Peace; "Armistice" – Phoenix; "I Won't Be Left" – Tegan and Sara; "Uncharted" – Sara Bareilles]

Eleven o'clock came far too soon. In a flurry of activity, Hope was blasted with the sound of Lightning's alarm, rolled onto the floor, shoved around to get dressed, and paging Alyssa on the room's handset before his mind had even processed the time.

The researcher was unbelievably punctual in arriving at the lobby; she escorted the party and dropped them off outside the reserved room with a reluctant farewell, at which point Hope finally finished waking up. Something about the sight of the metallic CONFERENCE ROOM placard served as a reality check.

Mentally collecting himself, he straightened his shirt collar and took a deep breath before stepping through the door to make sure the colonel was ready to receive them. At first glance, the room appeared to have been prepared and then vacated, but a voice from his far left caught his ear.

"I was wondering when I'd see you today, Hope."

Colonel Sabin was dressed to the nines in what should have been his most intimidating uniform, but his casual air still managed to take the edge off PSICOM attire that was sharply reminiscent of Yaag Rosch. Pushing off the wall he'd been lounging against, the colonel extended his hand, amicable as ever. When Hope took it, he was surprised to feel a small piece of paper being slipped into his own palm. He shot a dubious glance at his superior.

_Today? Why?_

Not wanting to draw attention, Hope just smiled and shook his head, lamenting, "Again with the first name, sir? I've heard the jokes, you know. There are a lot of people who can't take my name seriously."

"And a lot more who take it _very_ seriously," the colonel fired back without missing a beat. Hope had to admit the man was expert at getting the last word.

The other former l'Cie were already filing into the small conference room turned dining hall, oblivious to the exchange, though Hope suspected that if Lightning wasn't still in such a relaxed state, she would have picked up on something.

"Good to see everyone again!" the colonel greeted them, arms open and gesturing toward the set table. "I hope you're all hungry."

"Do ya really have to ask, sir?" Snow said easily, lopsided grin in place as he pulled out a chair for Serah. She gave Colonel Sabin a friendly side-hug while he laughed at her husband's antics, even letting him hold Milo – albeit briefly, before the child began to whimper for his mother. Hope absently noted that a boosted seat insert had been prepared for him as well.

_So it wasn't just incidental – he intended for Serah to bring the baby all along. Maybe he thinks that showing the citizens of Cocoon just how normal our family is will make them less inclined to fall back on the Purge mentality. It's not a bad idea. Miles did earn his place at the top for a reason._

When the colonel approached her, Lightning reflexively jerked her right arm up as if to salute, but instantly remembered better and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear instead. She settled for a respectful nod to PSICOM's commandant.

"Good afternoon, sir."

Colonel Sabin laughed lightly and mimicked her nod in return. "No need to be so formal, Lightning. I organized this luncheon for just the seven of us to talk on an equal plane, so don't be offended if I omit your rank. I ask you to disregard mine as well – please, call me Miles while we're in this room. If I had it my way, there's no chance I'd be stuck in this stuffy uniform right now!"

Apparently dumbstruck by the very notion, Lightning gathered her slack jaw and hesitantly replied, "Yes… Miles, sir," before she took a seat at the table, staring at the red place setting directly in front of her. Hope would have put the equivalence of culture shock down to differences between PSICOM and the Corps, but he knew better – it was merely the commandant's personal flair. He caught flack for it from time to time, but he honestly couldn't have cared less. Practically the entire command had already figured that out and accepted the departure from previous leadership styles.

"Oh, hey! Can't forget the Katzroys…" The colonel continued to welcome his guests, and Hope found that it was a perfect opportunity to sneak a glance at the paper in his hand. One half-second peek revealed a red stripe along the edge and a scrawled time of 1450 – it told him all he needed to know.

_This one's high priority._

Casually slipping his hands into his pockets, paper and all, Hope put on a smile and joined everyone at the table. Lightning continued to point her incredulous stare at the place setting, barely even noticing his arrival. A light nudge to her arm made her jump in the chair.

"He's always like this, by the way," Hope whispered to her, his voice catching as he tried not to laugh. "He says too much propriety causes indigestion… well, that and cheese Danish. He doesn't do so well with cheese Danish."

At that, she couldn't help but snort, even relaxing her strict posture, but she quickly recovered and cleared her throat.

"I know you've had more than enough opportunities to master social skills, so I shouldn't be surprised by all these new friends."

Something about the way Lightning said it made Hope wonder if she was worried he might incidentally accept the friendship of lesser men if it lined up with his new work agenda. He honestly couldn't blame her for such a fear, considering how his father had been in a similar position before when working under the Sanctum's corruption. Still, he felt his chest constrict a bit at her unyielding – and almost patronizing – protective instinct.

_Oh, Light… I'm not that naïve. We may be working on opposite sides of this new world, but we're still partners, right?_

Hope sought out her hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Nah, I'm still pretty clumsy," he said. "Picky, too."

Her eyes were softer when she turned toward him, and she squeezed back.

The arrival of two members of the kitchen staff from the far end of the room drew everyone's attention. They hustled around setting out salads for each guest, and Milo received a bowl of applesauce as well, his small fist poised to plunge into the goo.

"No no, sweetie," Serah gently corrected, guiding his fist away from the danger zone and producing a spoon from her small diaper bag.

Somehow, between herself and Snow, they assisted the greedy little boy and ate their own food in snatches with impressive skill, all while keeping up with friendly conversation. As they finished the main course, Milo's eyelids were drooping toward his chubby cheeks, the evidence of chowing down smeared on his bib.

One female server returned to the table upon sighting the drowsy child, and she asked Serah in a hushed voice, "Would you like put him down on a pallet? We have linens in the supply closet, if you need anything."

"Oh no, that's fine, thanks," Serah said immediately, waving her hands to dismiss the gesture. "It's no trouble for us." She removed the bib, then stood and dislodged Milo from his chair, smiling as her eyes darted to the many faces around the table.

"Any takers?"

Knowing that Lightning and Snow had already been burdened with the toddler a great deal – Lightning was even forced to change shirts – and that Snow would likely volunteer before anyone else had the chance, Hope shot his hand in the air the second Serah's words hit his ears. There was a chorus of snorts and snickers at the childish gesture.

_In front of my boss, too. Pfft, who am I kidding – he laughed_ first_._

"I'd like a turn, Sis," Hope said quietly, shrinking down in his chair and hating how his face heated up.

Seeming to fly around the table, Serah deposited her yawning child in his arms and draped a small blanket over his shoulder to protect his stain trap of a shirt. Milo was clearly too far gone to protest the change, so he settled down without a fuss.

Hope felt the slight strain of his weight and let out a breathy laugh. "He's growing too fast – I swear he got heavier since the last time I saw him."

Eyes sparkling at what she took as a compliment, Serah ruffled his hair and skipped back around to her diaper bag, pulling out a spiral notebook and flipping through the pages. "He has!" she said happily. "Almost four ounces."

"Yeah, next thing ya know we'll have him riding chocobos with Dajh here," Snow remarked proudly, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye with one hand while the other rested heavily on the teenager's poof of hair. Dajh slumped down from the pressure, a sour expression on his face.

"You're mashin' my hair into a mushroom, Snow," he grumbled, finally pushing the hand away when Snow just laughed at his complaint. "And jus' so ya know, I'm not puttin' that little guy on the back of any chocobo 'til he's five or six. You'd be crazy to make him ride earlier. Kid's barely toddlin' now!"

Snow raised his palms in acquiescence. "Hey, I can't argue with reason here, but I still say you could take him on a ride with you pretty soon. I was under the impression that your chocobos were trained so well they'd jump a canyon if you ordered it. Am I right?"

"Yeah, pretty much…" Dajh muttered, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. Hope smiled to himself at the change in a few short years – a younger Dajh would give a toothy smile and all but jump for joy when complimented, but the older he got, the more shy he acted under the spotlight.

_Guess I'll get to see the whole process for Milo,_ he thought with a sense of gratification. His heart sank when the thought made a round turn to reality.

_As much as I can in between work, that is._

"A'right, that's enough teasin' my boy for one day," Sazh intervened wearily, grinning nonetheless at the indirect praise for Dajh. He made a gun out of his hand and mock fired it at Snow, who nearly fell out of his chair as he gasped and clutched at his chest, feigning injury.

The colonel laughed along with the others as the plates were being cleared, anticipation shining in his eyes as he asked, "So Snow, that reminds me – how's the Second Cavalry unit doing? I know your report isn't due for another week, but I'm dying to know."

"Oh yeah," Snow said, scratching at his head in thought. "Better than expected, honestly. We've already got three more wyverns and two lobos fully trained since last month's report – riders have used 'em on patrols for a week now. No chocobo casualties either. We don't keep the predators anywhere near those birds."

"And what about the new project?" Miles asked, sitting back from his leaned-in position and removing his arms from the table as the servers set out dessert.

Snow looked like his smile might break his face at the very mention of the project, and secretly, Hope already knew why. In truth, he was usually the first person to know about progress with the Second Cavalry. It didn't take much encouragement to get Snow talking about his latest adventures, and he liked to drop by their headquarters from time to time.

"You're gonna love this—" Snow began, cutting off abruptly to gape at the fudgy slice of cake placed in front of him. He picked up his jaw and continued, "Uh, that is, we haven't actually gotten into the thick of the project yet, but we had a major breakthrough last week. Several of our guys followed a track that led 'em right down to a nesting herd of adamantoises. If we can get hold of a single young one, I'm confident we can train it up right, and as long as that works we can repeat the process."

Hearing his account, Lightning put her fork down with a harsh clap as it hit the wooden table. "You're actually planning to _train_ an adamantoise?" she asked incredulously, tightening her hand into a fist beside the plate. "I thought the lobo idea was dangerous enough, but this…"

Pausing for a breath, she rubbed two fingers between her furrowed eyebrows. "This is serious. Those things may be vegetarian, but they could level the Settlement if something went wrong!"

"Be crazy hard to take down, too," Sazh added soberly. "Couldn't make a dent in just one of 'em while it trampled Eden to rubble, if y'all remember."

"Guys, calm down," Hope admonished, patting Milo's back to emphasize his point. "It's not like they would be training them right here. I've known about this project for a while now, and nothing in Snow's plan made me worry for the safety of the Settlement."

Lightning's eyes widened and then narrowed suspiciously when she faced him again. She didn't say anything more, but the look spoke for itself.

_You don't miss anything, do you? Of course I'd be worried about Snow's safety, and the safety of his unit. It's just not my call._

"Look, Sis, Hope's right – we're _way_ out to the southeast, and it'll be worth the effort," Snow said with a placating tone. "Adamantoises will be slower than air transports, but safer, too. Other monsters aren't stupid enough to attack them, and it's not like all our supply lines have to be high speed."

"What about you and the soldiers?" Serah spoke up quietly. "Are adamantoises… hostile?"

The room was suddenly quiet enough for Hope to distinguish the sound of Milo's breathing.

Snow rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, I wouldn't call 'em hostile. They're pretty territorial and protective of the herd, but chocobos are that way, too. It's like Sis said – they're just giant vegetarians. Plus, we've got the benefit of Maqui's Siren, remember? That gadget worked wonders for the lobos!"

Despite paling at the mention of lobos, Serah smiled and nodded her understanding. "Just don't take any unnecessary risks, okay?"

"Wouldn't think of it," Snow promised, hugging her around the shoulders with one beefy arm. "I don't do crazy things when I've got the lives of the Cavalry guys to protect. We'll turn tail the second one o' those admantoises looks at us wrong."

Silence fell as everyone let that information settle, disturbed only by the slight clink of silverware meeting plates as they inched through dessert, until Dajh decided to have his say.

"So, Hero, you're playin' with the biggest of the big, now?" he quipped. "I'm a little jealous. O' course, not so much about the mountain o' poo you'll be shoveling for that new pet when ya bring him home."

"Dajh Leon Katzroy!" Sazh growled indignantly, giving his son the most deadly glare Hope had ever seen – which was saying something. "Those words are not fit for the dinner table."

Still, in total disregard to any semblance of professionalism, Miles had absolutely cracked up from the comment along with everyone else.

Hope was snickering to himself, but he had to keep his laughter at a minimum with Milo sleeping against his shoulder. To make matters worse, when he took a calming breath and caught a new, unpleasant scent on the air, he quickly traced it back to the toddler and felt a more intense round of laughter coming on.

_Well Dajh, you've got comedic timing down._

"S-Serah, hey, Sis—" Hope started, choking off as he covered his mouth and laughed quietly. "Speaking of cleaning up after your new pet…"

Thankfully, she caught on the instant he called for her, and he suspected she smelled it too, with her super-developed mother sense. "Sorry about that, Hope," she replied, trying and failing to not giggle the whole way around the table, diaper bag in tow. "He did have a pretty big lunch."

He heard her muttering to herself as she snatched Milo, "Just one more reason to start potty training after this."

It took several more minutes for everyone else to calm down once they also caught wind, literally, of what else had happened in relation to Dajh's initial joke. Serah changed the child with a practiced hand on the far side of the room, and by the time the laughter had stopped, she had calmed Milo down from his incessant complaining to nap mode again. This time, though, she deposited him on Dajh.

The smug look on Sazh's face all but screamed, _Payback, troublemaker._

"Well, I think it's about time to discuss some serious business," Colonel Sabin declared, stabbing his fork into his last bite of cake, "before we all slip into the customary food coma." To everyone's great relief, his comment was followed by coffee service. Hope heaved a sigh as he wrapped his hands around his steaming mug.

Snow guffawed and jerked a thumb toward his son as he replied, "I second that motion, Miles. We're already a man down!"

"Make that two, big guy," Sazh contributed. He elbowed a slumping, half-lidded Dajh in the arm, and the boy jerked to attention as if a rod had been shoved down his back, almost waking Milo in the process.

"I-I'm awake, promise, sir!"

The colonel chuckled and waved a dismissive hand in Dajh's direction, running that hand through his ruddy hair as he glanced away for some apparent cue to begin. Everyone else sipped on their coffee or chewed final bites of cake in suspense.

Clearing his throat, Miles pulled a small notepad from his pocket and began scanning something on its pages. He finally cast it aside and met the eye of each former l'Cie, smiling but measuring their expectations. Hope knew the look – it was the same one that he'd seen in the negotiations that led to the armistice. Gray eyes that searched for the truth of the matter with uncommon clarity.

"First off, have any of you been able to attend the Landing Festival in the last three years?" he began. "I only remember seeing these two jokers at the most recent one." He gestured toward Hope and Snow with a half-smirk.

"Think that was a first," Snow said easily.

Hope added, "And the others weren't available. Summer's a busy season for supply trips – it's even worse for the Corps with the surge of prowling monsters." He took another drink of coffee and watched Lightning in his peripheral vision, expecting some sort of addition to his claims from her soldier's perspective, but she merely rubbed one temple as her brow creased in thought.

"Not to mention all the allergy cases and heat-related illnesses," Serah tossed in before the silence could settle. "We also have more injuries _because_ of the increased run-ins with wildlife."

Giving the colonel a measuring look, Sazh explained, "I'm sorry if it just sounds like a bunch of excuses, Miles. Three years is a good stretch o' time to miss an event like that."

Miles had remained contemplative, absorbing each person's input and nodding politely, but at that point he turned to Lightning and asked her a simple question.

"And what about you, Lightning?"

Startled, it took her a moment to reply. "W-well, it's exactly like Hope said – both the monster activity and the supply trips call on our soldiers, in addition to other training responsibilities."

"True, but I think you had something else to say," Miles casually remarked, and the comment caught even Hope off-guard.

Suddenly, everyone was staring at Lightning – all of them in confusion except Sazh, who regarded her with an expression of guarded warning. That confounded Hope further, and he blinked at her with an open question in his eyes.

_Why are you so worried about speaking freely?_

To her credit, Lightning gave a small smile and replied matter-of-factly, "I don't think any of us were sure how the Settlement would take it – former l'Cie attending their celebration, that is. And as you know, our base started holding its own version of festivities for the citizens there, since it's just not safe or possible to have a mass exodus over that distance. This year, though, we were officially invited to join you. It would've been rude to not attend."

The entire group relaxed, apparently satisfied with her polite explanation. They all knew what she really meant – no one could be sure if the vestiges of PSICOM's prior hostility in the Settlement would still have effect on the population's opinion of the former l'Cie, even post-armistice. And Lightning's careful phrasing was a clear indicator that she wasn't going to say anything that could be perceived as negative, or as a bad representation of the Guardian Corps. Not when she either suspected or knew that this room, like every other one, was under surveillance. Hope had caught glimpses of her discreetly studying the corners and light fixtures early on in the meal – just her standard move in sweeping a foreign space.

_I really should know better than to underestimate her. _

"You raise an excellent point. I appreciate your honesty," Miles conceded, resting his chin on his folded hands. He smiled winningly at them, but something dark and uncertain clouded his eyes.

Hope suspected it had to do with the paper in his pocket – he practically felt it burning a hole there.

The colonel took a long drink of his coffee.

"That said, I feel confident that you will all be well received this year."

* * *

The subject of Snow's recent endeavors had been stewing at the back of Lightning's mind through the end of lunch, boiling to the surface at the mention of a 'few hours to unwind' that they had at their disposal before anything official began. The latent issues surrounding the evening's ceremonies could only be addressed by speculation, and the predicament of Fang and Vanille was even farther from her control, so the only potentially solvable problem was that of Snow's crazy Second Cavalry projects.

Lightning spent the entire return trip from the conference room staring a hole in Snow's trenchcoat as he and Serah walked ahead of them with Milo, mulling over possibilities until it came to the crucial moment – she could act now or give up. When they set foot in the lobby, she'd settled on her next mission. She strode from Hope's side with decisive speed, shutting out his surprised gasp at the abrupt separation and snatching her brother-in-law by the sleeve.

"Listen up, Snow," she demanded, her voice a low growl. "You are taking me to Second Cavalry headquarters, right now – personally." She didn't give the brawny man a chance to argue before she practically dragged him to the double doors, having no better plan in mind than to get to the bottom of his special adamantoise project. She needed to hear something more reassuring from the other people willing to put their lives on the line.

_If your hare-brained schemes end up leaving my sister alone with a baby, I swear…_

"S-see you in a bit, babe!" he shouted as he stumbled and waved back at Serah, who just sighed in resignation. Hope had barely reacted in time to call Lightning's name before the doors closed between them, but she was undeterred.

She soldiered on, now marching behind Snow as he begrudgingly led the way out of the facility and across town to a satellite post. The simple, three-storey building they approached after that forty-five minute trek sported a red-lettered sign identifying it as the headquarters of the newly created Second Cavalry unit.

"It's really just a glorified hangout," he joked, but at a sharp glare from the woman prodding him along, Snow explained the history in earnest.

"Seriously, all they did was renovate an old shelter that had already moved its tenants to the newer homes. The location's pretty convenient for living and admin stuff, but all the real work happens at the field site. We take chocobos to get out there." He pointed to an open-air pen set up in a grassy area at the side of the building, where several purple-and-gold feathered chocobos grazed freely.

Lightning huffed in disbelief. "I certainly don't have time to be riding out into the wilderness. Just let me talk with some of the soldiers who are already here, alright?"

"Hey, suit yourself," Snow said with a shrug, bowing slightly as he held the front door for her. She shot him a suspicious glare, but quickly set her eyes on the lone watchstander at the desk of their makeshift front office.

The poor sentry, formerly PSICOM from the angular cut of his hair, did a double-take before apparently recognising her for who she was. He jumped to attention and gave her a respectful, albeit fearful, nod.

"F-first Sergeant Farron," he addressed her nervously, clearing his throat and composing himself, "Welcome to Second Cavalry Headquarters."

"And you are…?" She raised a brow at him, her scrutiny automatic from so many years in a leadership role, but it was hard to judge him according to the usual standards when his uniform was such a hodge-podge affair. It looked more Guardian Corps than PSICOM in design and color scheme, probably because they were a field-oriented force, but elements of PSICOM flair altered the simplicity she knew. Phosphorescent ribbing encased the torso piece, which had a solid-panel front rather than center-opening vest, and the pauldron rank glowed blue. Additionally, the cover was more beret than cap-like.

All this she absorbed in the span of a long breath – exactly the amount of time it took him to gather his wits and respond.

"Specialist Yaibal, Sergeant," he said smartly, the former fear in his muddy eyes evaporating as training took over.

_This one seems decent enough – I hope he isn't just an exception. You'd better not disappoint me, Snow._

The target of her thoughts swaggered over from the doorway and threw an arm across her shoulders, chuckling about something she was not privy to. "C'mon, Sis – Yaibal's a good kid, like all my guys are. Don't give him a hard time, a'right?"

Shoving the arm from her shoulder, Lightning turned on him with icy indignation in her eyes. He automatically took a step back.

"_Clearly_ he's better trained than you," she enunciated under her breath, crossing her arms. "He knew my name and rank with no uniform and no introduction, and you can't even seem to recall my name."

Again, Snow chuckled inexplicably at her words. "Aw, that's because you're famous! I've told 'em so many stories about my wife's one-woman-army of a sister, they'd know you anywhere. I mean, how many pink-haired women would come in zapping the watch with a face-melting glare?"

Lightning rolled her eyes. "The glare was for you, genius," she muttered.

Mouth dropping open in exaggerated disbelief, Snow spluttered and started into a refute, but the arrival of a small gaggle of mixed male and female Second Cavalry members rounding the corner drew their attention.

The first of the group to notice Lightning was a sharp-eyed girl in their lead who couldn't have been older than Hope. Though most of her ash-colored hair was a shaggy crop, she wore a thick section from the back in the traditional braided style of a former PSICOM Inquisitrix. Stopping in her tracks, she met Lightning's gaze and gave her a stiff nod of acknowledgement.

"Good morning, First Sergeant."

The others around the girl finally cut their chatter and gawked at the woman before them, rarely seen out of uniform. Lightning briefly wondered if this was what caged lions experienced. She resisted the urge to growl.

It had been a long time since she'd seen Cavalry ranks, but they were similar enough to the other branches that she felt confident in making an assumption.

"Good morning, Corporal," she said somewhat stiffly. "If you don't mind, I have a few questions for you and your comrades."

"Not a problem, Sergeant," the girl replied. She propped a hand on one hip and added, "Would you rather sit down in one of the offices?"

"No, thank you," Lightning said coolly. "I don't have much time to waste. So for starters, is this guy here taking good care of his unit?" she asked, subtly elbowing Snow in the ribs.

She was greeted with nods all around and the occasional amused smirk. A mousy-looking girl in the back also spoke up to explain, "You couldn't pay me to go back to my old unit – working here beats pushing paper any day."

One male soldier added, "So many people wanted to get out of their desk jobs that try-outs for the Second Cavalry took a whole month to complete. I knew I was lucky, but I had no idea just _how _lucky till the first day we rode the wyverns." Pausing, he grinned broadly. "Best day of my life."

They all seemed to agree with that statement, so Lightning moved on. "Alright, then." One eyebrow perched, she met each and every gaze. "How do all of you feel about this adamantoise training project? I know you've dealt with wyverns and lobos before, but do you think it's worth the effort – all the serious risk – to take on something this massive?" she asked directly, earning wide-eyed stares at the mention of it. All eyes then shifted to Snow.

"Sir, is she supposed to know about this operation?" the taller male in the group asked nervously, flinching back at Lightning's glare when it landed on him. She could admit that it was a fair question, but the interruption was still aggravating.

_Not nearly as aggravating as hearing my knuckle-headed brother-in-law addressed like an officer._

"W-well," Snow said haltingly, scratching at the back of his head, "she just happened to be in a meeting with the commandant today when it came up. If the boss didn't have a problem with her knowing, I'd say it's all good. Come to think of it," he added curiously, turning to face her with a wry grin, "I'm kinda surprised Hope didn't just tell ya."

Lightning shrugged off the slight flare of uncertainty in her chest. "He can't tell me everything," she muttered.

"Sergeant, with all due respect," the ash-haired corporal asked, taking a cautious step forward, "why would the director be involved? Do you work under him?"

At that comment, Snow snorted loudly and covered his mouth, his large shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Lightning was torn between wanting to sock him or kick him, but she knew that neither would be very professional in front of his subordinates, even if she resented his penchant for double entendre. She settled for a dark glower instead, arming herself with words.

But just as she raised a finger and formed the first syllable of her explanation, the Specialist on watch spoke instead.

"Paine, didn't you know?" he began, shaking his head and fighting a smirk. "Sergeant Farron is married to the director."

Jaw locked open in obvious surprise, the corporal's gaze skittered to the side as she collected her thoughts to respond. "O-oh, nevermind," she replied sheepishly. Lightning rolled her eyes, annoyed by the very personal turn in the conversation.

She cleared her throat and cut off the bubbles of irritation before they could rise from her stomach. "Back to the subject at hand," she forced out, her tone completely flat but loud enough to be clear over Snow's smothered laughter. "Adamantoise training. Your thoughts."

The corporal – Paine, apparently – shrugged slightly. "I'm all for it. Do you have any idea how many close calls our transports have had with wyvern-types on the trips to Aerma Proper?" she asked rhetorically, and Lightning just blinked, waiting for her to continue. "Well, it's getting worse. Last year we had a Cocoon transport downed by some crazed zirnitra, and the director said he'd personally been clipped by svarogs at least a dozen times during flights, when we asked him."

"Is that so?" Lightning ground out, whipping her head toward Snow for an explanation as to why she hadn't been told.

And trying to ignore the fact that her brother-in-law wasn't really the one at fault for the missing information.

_Why wouldn't Hope tell me? I know I must've asked him about his work and his trips hundreds of times, but he always seemed so positive. I don't remember having reason to think anything had gone wrong…_

Snow raised his hands in a gesture of penitence. "Look, I really thought you knew this stuff. Seein' as you don't, it makes a lot more sense why you've been so skeptical about the project." He paused, chewing the corner of his lip before commenting thoughtfully, "We've obviously gotta work on communication between the Settlement and the GC base." She didn't miss the implication behind his words, and her chest burned furiously at the thought that even Snow could tell what was bothering her.

"Sergeant Farron," Yaibal added from behind the desk, "Pardon the interruption, but… I think if you consider the increased safety and the decreased fuel consumption from using adamantoises, you'll see the benefits really outweigh the risks. That's what we all believe. Our unit commander and the director wouldn't want us to do this if it wasn't worthwhile."

The way his voice petered out self-consciously on those final words struck a chord of familiarity. She aimed her scrutinizing stare at the specialist for a long moment before it hit her that she had met him somewhere before.

"You… you were on patrol the night of that black-out, about a year and a half ago, weren't you?" she asked suddenly, hands on her hips.

"I—yes, that's correct, Sergeant."

"Well, congratulations on the promotion," Lightning said with finality, facing the group for a long moment. "And it sounds like your _commander_ isn't taking you all on some pointless heroic quest. That's all I needed to know." She glanced at Snow just long enough to note the concern shadowing his expression, feeling pressed to leave before he could corner her into some gut-twisting personal conversation about Hope, and she turned on her heel to stride toward the door.

"Thank you for your time," she said over her shoulder, stepping out into the sunlight. She could hear Snow's heavy footfalls in pursuit, but she had no intention of turning around until a good amount of distance was between her and Second Cavalry headquarters.

_How have I been so locked off in the tiny box of my command, while Hope's got his hands in every new development going on in this place? I thought— Ugh, I don't know what I thought. That the Corps didn't need to worry about PSICOM's territory? That maybe the Settlement's business didn't have anything to do with me? If I'd just had more information, though… _

_No. I've been naïve. _

Groaning to herself, she whipped around a corner to tromp down a narrow cross-path off the main street, hoping to lose Snow and gain some alone time to think. Deep down, she could honestly admit, the problem was obvious. She didn't_ want_ the Settlement's business to have anything to do with her. Her entire perspective was fundamentally skewed against the sprawling establishment, seeing its leaders as scheming politicians, with few exceptions, and its citizens as a herd of sheep utterly dependent on Cocoon's depleting energy reservoir – all of them locked into their original roles under the governance of the fal'Cie. Armistice or no armistice, the Settlement was still not a part of her simple, structured world in the Corps. It might as well have been a foreign country.

_But I'm married to the ambassador. Goddess help me._

From the beginning, Lightning had believed that the driving force behind Hope's willingness to get involved was his desire to protect Fang and Vanille – a cause she could fully endorse. And while she definitely knew that he cared about their crystallized friends, the more she discovered, the more her fears were confirmed.

Hope cared, alright. He cared about Fang, Vanille _and_ the whole ungrateful Settlement. He wanted to protect them all.

And she couldn't for the life of her understand why.

* * *

"It's been a while since it was just the two of us like this, hasn't it?"

Hope laughed lightly, tucking a thin blanket around Milo in the middle of the bed. He straightened up and popped his back, walking over to where Serah had curled up on the couch.

"Uh-huh," she yawned, her whole body bouncing when he collapsed on the cushion beside her and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Bit of an improvement over the shelter, though, wouldn't you say?" she asked.

"Better than the shelter, but not so much the base apartment. I kinda miss that old couch." He watched her with concern as she rubbed her temples, but she smiled warmly at the reference.

"You would," she remarked, rolling her eyes. "You lived on that thing for months!"

Hope worked up a spectacular pout, eyes glistening. "I had no choice – I was banished there."

"Oh—oh come _on_! You little devil!" Serah nearly squeaked, landing a weak punch on his shoulder. He reflexively curled in on himself and covered his head with his arms, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Aw, Sis…" he choked, peeking at her from under his arm as he fought to keep his voice steady, "I thought you _loved_ me."

"You just have to lay it on thick, don't you?" she sighed, drumming her fingertips on his ribs experimentally. He flinched away when she finally hit a ticklish spot – not ten seconds later she got him squirming and laughing harder until he could barely catch his breath.

"I do love you," she answered at length, giggling at his descent into a childish meltdown from the attack. No amount of his writhing and flailing could get her hands away. "That's why I'll always _tell _you when you're being downright evil, and set you straight."

At that point, Hope wriggled his way into the floor as a last desperate shot at relief. He flopped onto his back at Serah's feet, tear tracks running down to his ears. "I'm… not…" he gasped, "evil. I… swear. I'm just… misunderstood."

She planted her bare soles on his stomach, and he felt most of his air whoosh out in a surprised laugh.

"You sure about that?" Serah asked, leaning over her knees to meet his gaze. He was taken aback at the conflicted look in her eyes.

Every scrap of mirth dissolving into anxiety, Hope abruptly propped himself on his elbows. "…what do you mean?"

"Hope," she started with an unconvincing laugh, "You know we understand you, right? We might not know every little bit of what you're facing over here, but you should always feel free to talk to us."

"Of course I do," Hope said, pulling himself to a sitting position and resting his head on her knees. "Sorry if things have seemed disconnected whenever it got busy. I didn't mean to make you worry."

Serah combed her fingers through his hair, as if the calming motion could sweep away his unease. "I'm not worried, I just… don't want you to do that _thing_ Sis does, where she decides to hide her problems from everyone."

He picked at a stray thread dangling from the hem of her skirt, distracting himself as he asked, "She's doing that right now?" Try as he might, Hope couldn't keep the note of apprehension from his voice.

Serah swatted his hand away and smiled thinly at him. "It's hard for me to be sure – I mean, there's a very subtle difference between her 'normal' coping strategies and actually hiding things. Maybe you can get in close enough to find out." There was a weariness and finality in her tone that made Hope reconsider questioning her any further, but his heart sank nonetheless. Serah was never wrong when it came to gut feelings.

"I need a nap," she yawned again, listing into the arm of the couch. "Milo would _not _settle down before lunch, and it's hard enough trying to sleep in this place."

Hope raised a brow at her, at least as surprised as he was concerned. "Even with your hero here? Snow could take out a small army – as if the colonel would ever allow anything to happen to his guests, or in his facility."

"I never said I was _afraid_, Hope," she snapped, the level of exasperation so unlike her that he jolted upright.

_Given what I know, fear would be a perfectly natural response._

Images of those months of recovery flashed through his mind – the steady routine of morning tea and medical work, her ragged determination to beat back the nightmares of her detainment in Central and move on with life.

"Right," he corrected shakily, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I—nevermind. I'll get you a blanket." Hope crossed quickly to a linen closet near the bathroom, shoving aside stacks of sheets on three different shelves before he finally discovered a fuzzy throw tucked away in the back. In the process, he caught a glimpse of the time on his watch.

_Nearly half past two? I have to head down there._

"Here." He draped the blanket over the slight woman and tucked it around her form until every possible opening was sealed. "Now you're a Serah-pillar," he joked, making her giggle at the gesture, but her laughter died away when he headed for the door.

"Hope," she called, a hint of melancholy in the word, "Where are you going?"

He smiled brightly, pressing down on the handle. "To a meeting. _Then_ to find my wife before she takes out her frustration on your husband in the form of a fist," he said with an air of helplessness. Grabbing the cordless handset lying on a decorative table to his right, he tossed it onto the couch cushion beside Serah, who wiggled an arm free to snatch it.

"Shouldn't take long. Page me if you need anything, okay Sis? Extension 117."

"Oh, sure," she laughed. "Just hurry!"

* * *

**Endnotes: Beta-roomie is at it again ^_^ Granted, she didn't have as many for this rather informative chapter, but she still managed to pull out a few fun comments!**

**When the colonel mentions the importance of Hope's name: "DUN DUN DUN FORESHADOWING maybe"**

**To Hope's comment that he is picky: "Aw *heart*"**

**When Lightning first questions the members of Snow's unit: "hahaha YES THROW YOUR LEADERSHIP UNDER THE BUS. RIGHT NOW. DO IT. REPERCUSSIONS? Noooooo there won't be repercussions, that NEVER happens in the military… and by never I mean always."**

**When Lightning whips around to glare at Snow over the information she hadn't gotten: "haha BUSTED."**

**When she immediately thinks about how Hope hadn't mentioned anything: "See Hope, this is where marriages go wrong. Telling your partner about near-death experiences has to be like #1 on the list of 'Things to Share'."**

**After Snow mentions that they need to improve communication: [beta-roomie draws adorable Light vs. Snow argument comic with title "SNOW'S IMPLICATION (a visual representation) before the text]:**

**[beside Lightning] – "or however the f**k Light's hair looks now**

**[all around Snow] – "AND ALSO THE COMMUNICATION IN YOUR MARRIAGE MAYBE WE CAN WORK ON THAT TOO WHAT DO YOU THINK LIGHT? HUH? TALKING, DOESN'T THAT SOUND FUN?"**

**After Lightning's comment about being married to the ambassador: "Them's the breaks, Light. Hey, at least you get good sex out of the deal."**

**When Hope is caught off guard by Serah's sharp remark that she is NOT afraid: "god Hope BE MORE SYMPATHETIC gal ;P"**


	3. Fire Escapes

**A/N: Still on a roll! I'm sorry the length of this chapter is shy of my usual, but that was the sacrifice I had to make when I split it off from chapter 2 :-/ Better than having to swallow some 10,000+ words in a sitting, right? I really try NOT to do that (and fail, on occasion). In any case, this chapter was near and dear to my heart, and it moves much more quickly than the last two – not because of the length, either! The support from all of you has been tremendous so far, and I aim to keep your interest. **

**That said, I am also very grateful to the anons out there, and I only wish I could reply to your reviews like I do the others. This last time around, I spotted a rather comprehensive review from LawMan – very pleased to hear that you enjoyed all the other pieces, and I hope the sequel lives up to your expectations! To other anons, I will try to keep up with my inbox reviews and reply to you here as best I can ^_^**

**On with the show!**

[Songs for Chapter 3: "Rabbits" – Our Lady Peace; "Headlights on Dark Roads" – Snow Patrol; "The Calculation" – Regina Spektor; "Gimme Sympathy" – Metric]

Fire Escapes

_What the hell am I doing here?_

Lightning cursed under her breath at the sight before her. For some unfathomable reason, she had wandered into the GC warehouse district and stood staring into the yawning cargo bay entrance of BARTHOLOMEW. But Hope wasn't there, and neither were the answers she sought. Frustrated, she began to walk circles around the transport.

_Why? _she questioned herself._ Why are we here at all?_

The thought of standing before PSICOM and _everyone_ at the evening's mourning ceremony had leapt out from its dark corner in her mind the instant her mission to investigate the adamatoise training project ended. Obviously, coming to the Settlement to see Hope held more than enough merit, but when she thought about their_ intended_ purpose for coming, her blood churned furiously through her body.

_Why should we have to show our support by making a spectacle of ourselves? Isn't it enough that the citizens have all but forgotten about l'Cie? They've finally let us live our lives! And now we're being shoved right back into the spotlight. _

"Right into targeting range." She stopped at the cargo bay entrance again, running her fingers up into her hair and gripping the scalp. That line of fearful thinking was going to make it impossible to survive the day – for better or worse, it had to stop. Taking a deep breath, she wandered up the ramp and into the main cabin, vaguely wondering why it was open in the first place but dismissing the thought.

Within the ship, everything was so homey that it hit her stomach like a physical blow. The smell of coffee lingered in the air, obviously coming from a beaten-up electric pot nearby. A couple of rucksacks of Hope's belongings slumped in bucket seats to her right, half the contents scattered around as if he'd gone looking for something in a hurry, and a bag of tools lay beside the all-too-familiar mechanical space entrance. Loud clanging sounded below the floor, and she faithfully watched the open panel, half-expecting him to pop out, grease stuck in his silver hair and that special smile on his face that said, _I've never been happier to see you!_

So she jumped, startled, when it was Maqui who popped his head out of the mechanical space, waving a wrench at her. "Ahoy there, Lightning! Figured you'd be holed up in a room over at Central right about now."

_I wish it was that simple_, she thought miserably.

"Just looking for something," Lightning said, her throat drying out. She decided that it would be best for her to get back before any others found and questioned her. She spied the wad of Hope's newer gray coveralls and a rumpled black t-shirt near one of the rucksacks – her heart leaped a little at the sight, overpowered by the combination of nostalgia and longing, and she knew she wanted those clothes above anything else. Walking over, she snatched them up and headed for the ramp.

"Found it!" she called back to Maqui as she jogged to the outside and hurried down the streets of the warehouse district. Soldiers who were going about their work undoubtedly recognised her, several of them shouting out greetings, but she blocked everything from her notice except the goal of getting to Central, where the answers were waiting. She had no intention of inviting more awkward, useless conversation with strangers.

It wasn't until the massive main gate of Central's complex came into view in the distance that she found a flaw in her plan to clear her head by detour. Slowing to a stop at the intersection of the public services and commercial districts, she looked around the empty square – not a single business was open. Everyone was off for the Day of Mourning, and Lightning was all too aware how conspicuous she appeared, standing alone in the street under the bright, scorching sun. Whether or not that meant anything anymore was beside the point – she refused to let her guard down. She needed to move forward, but the thought of re-entry made her realise that getting through the gate would be a hassle.

After all, without Snow or Hope, and without the authorization Sazh had carried to dock his ship, she had absolutely no clearance to enter the facility on her own.

"Damn it," she hissed. "I'm not waiting for the idiot to come back around."

Lightning marched across the square with purpose, but the pristine fountain in its center gave her pause. It was too distinctive to ignore – the domed design having been based on Palumpolum's core infrastructure to represent the new commercial center – and an associated memory stabbed more sharply at the back of her mind than she expected.

"'We'_ wrecked the old fountain, you know," Hope said, his voice full of sarcastic amusement as he skipped a pebble across the steaming pool. "Someone in Central hacked navigation – which is simple enough, as you can see." Laughing, he gestured toward the roughly landed transport in the dark clearing. _

"_And then '_we'_ plowed the ship right into the middle of the square – people, gravel, stone… Absolute miracle no one was killed."_

_Pulling the towel closer around herself, Lightning rested her damp head on his shoulder. "So that's how the conflict started? A setup to deface the Corps?"_

_Hope snorted briefly and wrapped her up, towel and all, in his own blanket. He leaned them both against the sheer rock wall at their backs, humming a single, long note of resignation before he spoke again._

"_Yeah, you could say that was the spark of all the trouble."_

Lightning shook her head clear, stalking across the rest of the square and sticking as far left as she could on the path to avoid the main entrance as Central loomed closer. Now, even more so than back then, she felt something was off about Hope's account from that long, strange night when the auto-pilot had abruptly failed. It wasn't that she thought he was lying about the incident – he'd meant every word.

_He just didn't tell me the rest. There was more, but he hid it for some reason._

_Just like he's keeping me out of the loop now._

She wondered if the story would have ever come up, had they not faced that failure in the ship's navigation system. He'd never mentioned the crash before, and she'd never asked him for additional information surrounding the military split. After all, Lucil's accounts had covered the essentials, and others had filled in the gaps. No one wanted to dwell on the conflict's causes in the midst of trying to mend that rift – herself included.

Still, that didn't explain the bitterness that clung to his words when he told her about the fountain incident. Of all the people trying to see the good in both sides of the conflict, Hope was perhaps the most understanding and the least likely to be holding a grudge against PSICOM, especially not for something with such comparatively minimal impact. They had done much worse than wreck a ship with no casualties.

As she strode quickly for the closest gate, pointedly ignoring the stares she received from the guards a minute later when they spotted her, new considerations about Hope's actions began to whirl around in her mind.

_Even if he's hiding things from me, he might've confided in Serah. He has before._

_And I'd be willing to bet she knows more than me about what's been going on here, too – if not because of Hope, because of Snow._

Lightning approached the western gate with newfound purpose, much more content with a plan to question her sister rather than Hope. She could rationally acknowledge her own frustration toward him for shielding her from information, but she also knew than confronting him in her current frame of mind was irresponsible, and would probably just make him even more defensive.

_No need to hand him justification on a silver platter._

The first guard at the entry point flagged her, and she automatically handed over her ID. He seemed friendly enough, and his uncommonly bright blue eyes reminded her of Serah.

"Excuse me," she said calmly. "I'm here on business for the Landing Festival. Is my keycard sufficient to get an escort into housing?"

Clearly not expecting her to be so straightforward, the guard looked to his comrade for assistance, but the other sentry just shrugged. Stumbling over his words, the first instructed, "Well, that is… Let me see the card, please, Sarg—"

She whipped out the small piece of plastic with the alphanumeric 4D before he'd even finished the sentence.

"A-ah, yeah. I'll just call Access Control." He stepped over to a grounded phone and dialed an extension, waiting to connect. A few muttered questions and less than a minute later, he hung up.

She didn't like the smirk on his face when he returned.

"You're good to go," he said, returning both cards. "But you could've just told me you're the director's wife. We can have him paged, if you'd rather not have an escort. Access confirmed that he isn't in housing right now."

"I don't recall asking," she replied, quirking an eyebrow. His mouth opened as if to respond, but his words failed him, so she answered his inquiry anyway. "That won't be necessary, thanks."

She turned to go, just as the sentry found his voice. "If I may ask, Sergeant…"

"I don't have my communicator," Lightning snapped, aggravated by the delay, but his gestures of protest indicated that she'd guessed wrong about his inquiry.

_And he's the one with gate control. Tch._

"It's not that," he said plainly. "Just have a question for you."

"Well then, spit it out," Lightning replied curtly, tucking the bundle of clothes under one arm to cross them both over her chest, and then exhaling sharply through her nose.

He was fighting a smile – that much was obvious – and his comrade seemed to have caught onto whatever his intentions were. The sentry shook his head, trying in vain to dissuade the blue-eyed guard.

"I just have to know," he began, no longer able to contain the wry grin. "Does a soldier like you _really_ have a thing for that crazy hair of his?"

Lightning froze, so taken aback by the forwardness of the question that she couldn't even lash out like she knew she wanted – _needed_ – to.

"I can't believe…" she muttered to herself, cursing the flames of indignation under her cheeks. The very mention pulled up a memory from that morning, of her fingers tangling into those feathery silver locks to find a desperate grip.

_Ugh, there's nothing to be done for it now... except to shock some manners into this one._

She stared the sentry down, lips drawn into a thin line.

"Why wouldn't I?" Nothing in her deadly tone allowed for an answer.

Both guards were instantaneously stunned, the original questioner having the audacity to blush as his eyes finally hit the ground.

"O-of course," the less brash one managed to reply, and he opened the gate, motioning for his still-dazed comrade to escort her. His suggestion was incontrovertible at that point, and the troublemaker nodded nervously.

Pocketing her ID and keycard, Lightning wiped her face of emotion and headed directly through the gate without acknowledging the escort at her left, only vaguely noting that he removed his cover from a mop of layered brown hair once they entered the facility. She hoped for two things, now – that he would keep his mouth shut, and that Serah was still safely tucked away in her room, alone.

_Snow had better not beat me._

* * *

Colonel Sabin stood staring up at the crystal pillar, seemingly lost in thought, when Hope strode through the glittery air, his approach catching the commandant's eye.

Laughing, Miles remarked, "A whole minute early this time! I'm impressed."

"I'm working on it, sir," Hope muttered self-consciously, hands already in his pockets. He cleared his throat. "So what's the pressing issue?"

"A change of plans," the colonel intonated, pulling Hope by the arm to stand with him at the base of the pillar. He focused his eyes pointedly at the dark spot above them. "And a good chance to reflect on our salvation, wouldn't you say?"

Hope rolled his eyes, but mimicked his superior in staring up toward Fang and Vanille. "Don't tell me you've been gossiping with my friends, now." He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "And they won't even say a word to me…"

"Hope, I'd be a fool to call you out here for a trip down memory lane," the colonel sighed, taking a coin from his pocket and flipping it methodically as he spoke. "It's about the ceremony tonight. I've decided to take a bit of a risk, and I need your help."

"No threats this time?" Hope teased, not at all surprised when the next flick of the coin sent it right at his jaw. He laughed and rubbed the spot gingerly, wondering if it would bruise.

"Ow. Good aim."

Miles chuckled at his own shot, bending down to retrieve the coin from the floor. "No, haven't heard any threatening activity lately – we've all but flushed out Baram's supporters by now. Think that guy in surveillance was one of the last."

"Is that right," Hope muttered doubtfully. "Guess it's hard not to feel sentimental about this meeting spot. These two don't get many friendly visitors, anyway."

In truth, he couldn't blame the colonel for being vigilant about his use of the site. The stanchions surrounding the pillar were full of magnetized equipment, on top of natural interference that came with the cloud of crystal dust – properties they had long since discovered would scramble the signals of any electronic equipment within the enclosure. The routine was simple. Whenever they wished to speak candidly, they would not-so-coincidentally meet near the pillar at prearranged times.

The colonel shrugged. "I take it you'd be on board with, say, a little stunt to make sure our lucky ladies get some recognition this year, for once. Sound good?"

"Better late than never," Hope replied, shifting his weight to his left leg. He folded his arms, brow furrowing in thought. "But how?"

Resuming his habitual coin flipping, Miles watched the gil flash up and down before his eyes with a straight face. "I left a gift in your office, for you and your friends to wear at the ceremony tonight."

"O-kay," Hope said slowly, one eyebrow quirked. He cast his confused gaze directly on the colonel, who suddenly swiped his coin from the air and smiled. A familiar glint of mischief made his eyes flash silver.

"Just promise to wear them. And tell your friends to be prepared to speak up for Fang and Vanille." He clapped Hope on the shoulder and turned to leave.

Shaking his head, Hope followed closely on his heels. "Wait, sir, I don't under—"

The blaring sound of an alarm filled the air, cutting him off mid-sentence. Hope knew the flat tone bursts better than any other sound in the world – it was the signal for level three evacuation.

A shudder ran down his spine. He was all too aware that the only reason for a level three evacuation was a full-scale power outage. The open-air worksite, constantly lit by Cocoon's glow, betrayed no change, but Hope would have bet his life on the alarm Maqui and his team had installed. It was even wired to a separate power supply, along with the stanchions – it would never be triggered by any other event.

Colonel Sabin spun on his heel, his stormy eyes clearly questioning if it was just another drill. Shaking his head, Hope closed the distance and dragged the colonel with him to a nearby control box. He jerked the panel open and flipped the manual activation switch for the stanchion's magnetic nodes, static in the air making his hair stand on end as the machinery hummed to life.

_Five minutes, max. If it starts, that barrier won't hold for long…_

The projected disaster scenario flashed through his mind in an instant: if the shock of the energized stanchions wasn't enough to jumpstart Cocoon for a temporary rebound, the glow would die out, the powerless pillar would crumble, crushing Fang and Vanille, and the polarized network of rods peppering the forty-five degrees 'adjusted' southern hemisphere would repel Cocoon's collapse to the north.

But that wouldn't stop a large section of its spherical base from leveling Central on impact. Any given outage, at this point, could spell the end for PSICOM. It was too dangerous to assume otherwise.

"South exit, now!" he shouted over the alarm, and the two of them charged toward the door, which had been automatically unlocked for immediate egress.

Heart racing, Hope herded the colonel down the dark hallway toward the nearest stairwell by the light of phosphorescent strips – the first step of his own escape route.

Two turns later, as they approached an intersection with the primary corridor leading east, the sudden thought of his family inside the facility made Hope screech to a stop.

"Miles!" he practically shouted, grabbing the colonel by the shoulders and turning him around. "You have to keep going without me from here! I'm gonna make sure Sis and the others know how to get out!"

Nodding, the colonel shoved him away and yelled, "Then go! Hurry!" He whirled back around and took off down the hall, leaving Hope to run east toward the obscured block of offices. A handful of panicked officers rushed past him on their way out of that area and down to level one – none of them would be heading for housing. Hope knew he had to find the double-doors to the glass walkway, but that was proving a challenge, considering he'd spent hardly any time in the upper east wing before that morning.

Hitting a wall a couple of minutes later, he rounded a corner to the right and charged ahead, hoping to spot the particular set of doors he needed on his left. They weren't anything special, but they would be the only ones available if he was, in fact, following the right passage. If he wasn't, he'd have to go farther east.

_Maker, this is nothing like air navigation. I'd almost prefer the wildlife…_

He hadn't run ten steps when a sledgehammer-like force crashed into his right side from a cross path. His other shoulder slammed the wall before his head smacked an emergency-kit fitting along his rapid descent to the floor, and everything, even the phosphorescent lights, faded from his vision.

* * *

Lightning spied the panic in her escort's bright blue eyes the instant the lights flickered out. An alarm sounded, its loud, even tones pounding in her head, and all she could see anymore were the glowing strips of emergency lighting that marked the baseboards and doorposts.

"This way, Sergeant," he ordered, waving her toward the next corridor on their right. "We have to evacuate _now_." She would've been impressed by his forcibly calm reaction, had her chest not suddenly seized when she thought of her family in housing.

_I have no idea what's going on, but I doubt there's time to ask why._

"Wait!" she shouted, eyes darting down the dark passage stretching eastward. "My sister's in guest housing – I have to make sure she got out!"

"Come on! We've only got five minutes to reach the gate!" the escort insisted, now pulling her arm. "That's _barely_ time to get to housing from here, much less outside!"

Lightning jerked away violently, bolting past him and down the hallway. She wasn't exactly running blind, though, not once she found a staircase farther down. At the very least, she knew to go up and eastward until she hit the glass corridor.

Once she climbed to the second floor, she heard footsteps clattering on the stairs behind. She cursed her luck that the escort was stubbornly in pursuit, but it made her more determined than ever to evacuate every single one of her family members within his stated time limit.

Racing out of the stairwell, she whipped to her left and continued her eastward push. An oddly positioned fire extinguisher caught her eye, and she knew she was just about out of the office block by that point. Somehow increasing her pace, Lightning smirked to herself.

_I won't fail._

And she might have been right. At least, she had a fair shot, up until she cleared the end of her corridor and collided full-tilt into someone else. The impact of a hard shoulder with her face sent her staggering to the side, her jaw and nose throbbing as she dropped the wad of Hope's clothes and caught herself against the wall. She touched the stickiness trickling from her nostrils and tasted blood in her mouth, knowing she'd bitten her tongue, but that was negligible. Once the world came back into focus, she could see the other person was worse off.

He was out cold. Lightning knelt to check him for injuries, turning his face up, and gasped. It was impossible to _not_ know that face, under even the dimmest lighting.

"Hope!" she cried, shaking him. She felt around his head for a bump, heaving a sigh when her hand came back with almost no blood. "We've gotta move…"

_What now? I can't leave you, but how can I get to Serah in time?_

"What _happened_?" the escort shouted from behind her, his additional presence in that moment sending a wave of relief over her.

Hoisting Hope from the floor, she shoved him onto the startled sentry, who flailed and fumbled but managed to hold the unconscious man upright.

"Get him out!" Lightning ordered simply, snatching the clothes she'd dropped as she pushed past the escort to run down the passage Hope had been following. Absently, she swiped at the blood under her nose along the way.

_I think we had the same goal. We could've handled this together…_

Growling, she cut off that train of thought and tightened her hold on the clothes. It wasn't long before the familiar set of double doors turned up on her left, and she charged through them with reckless abandon, sprinting over the glassed-in walkway like its floor was on fire.

The spotless lobby was empty, silent except for the continuously blaring alarm. Lightning had half-expected Sazh or Serah to have at least tried to leave their rooms, so that threw her for a loop. Recovering with a shake of her head, she ran down the central hallway and turned toward the guest quarters.

Her explanation came in the form of a fire escape door, left wide open at the end of the corridor. Lacking any more time or options, she knocked on each room quickly to confirm that they were all gone, then hopped onto the fire escape herself.

From that vantage point, she could see a large crowd gathering on the grinder in front of the main entrance, a thinning stream of stragglers still joining the group from all three entrances. Not far off, she spotted Hope being hauled along by the security escort as they emerged from the east entrance.

_This really serves me right for getting so distracted. Whatever Hope might be hiding from me – whether I agree with it or not – I'm sure he's doing it for my own good. I should stop this speculation and be straight with him about it._

_Well… after I've gotten him an ice pack, at least._

She hurriedly climbed down the rattling fire escape and ran across the short expanse of sun-scorched grass, passing the east gate to catch up with the escort. Turning to face her, his blue eyes were far from amused.

"So, have you come to reclaim your kill?" he mocked, shifting the load on his back. His words gave some of the evacuees around them pause, but she forced their stares and shocked murmurs from her notice, keeping her eyes on Hope.

Upon reaching the grinder, the escort lowered himself in a squat and maneuvered Hope onto the ground, still grumbling at Lightning as he worked. "Wasn't gonna call any attention to ya, not until you went and dumped this poor guy on—"

He cut off abruptly, finally seeing, in broad daylight, the person he'd just carried.

"Oh, holy— You just waylaid the director! A-and he's your—"

"You think I don't _know_ that?" Lightning snapped, sitting on the ground to pull Hope's head onto the wad of clothing in her lap. She muttered between clenched teeth, "I'm not too happy about it either, genius."

He watched her, mouth agape, as she wiped her arm under her bloodied nose and spit even more blood on the ground – scattering a few personnel – and then proceeded to feel around for the bump on Hope's head.

"I need a cold compress," she ordered, her voice startling him from his gawking. He took an automatic step away, and she felt an overwhelming urge to rail at the sentry, but she bit it back. She had to admit owing him for his assistance. "Look… what's your name? Since you already know mine so well."

"I-It's Kreiss," he muttered nervously. "Noel Kreiss, Private First Class-type."

"Alright then, Private," she enunciated. "I could use a little more help. Can you find wherever they have a first-aid station? I need a cold compress and some acetaminophen. Water, too, if it's available. Understood?"

Nodding once as a surprising sternness overtook his features, he said a simple "Roger that" before pushing his way through a still-gathering crowd. Lightning could feel their eyes on her, and she cringed, partly because she loathed the curious attention of strangers – all PSICOM, no less – but mostly because she hated the urge within herself to run from their stares, leaving Hope in the process.

_That's just unforgiveable_, she scolded herself. _You know good and well that if this situation was reversed, he'd be worried sick – covering for you when people asked questions. He wouldn't give a rat's ass about what anyone said or did. _

_He never has._

Taking that thought to heart, Lightning gave her full attention to examining him. She brushed the bangs from his forehead, biting her lip at his paleness, and she prodded the hateful bloodstain darkening the upper right sleeve of his shirt from their collision. With a sinking sense of irony, she realised he was going to _need_ the change of clothes.

_Why am I messing up so much? Why did this whole evacuation even—?_

"Sis! Sis, look at me!" Lightning's tormented gaze snapped up to her sister, Serah's slim hand shaking her shoulder. The noises of the crowd had drowned out the approach of her soft footsteps.

"Sis, what on Pulse _happened_ in there?" Serah's eyes darted down to Hope, then back up to Lightning with frantic concern roiling in their depths.

"I-I don't really know," Lightning floundered, blinking her eyes rapidly and fixing them back on Hope. "The alarm went off and I started running – I wanted to check on you, make sure you got out, but…"

She trailed off as Hope began to stir, his forehead crinkling – likely in pain. A moment later, his eyes shot open, and he stared up at her through a green haze.

"Light? Wh-what's going on?" he mumbled, trying to sit up but quickly suffering the effects of mild head-trauma. He brought his shaky hands to his temples. "Maker, my head is _killing_ me…"

Sazh had just joined Serah to hover over them with concern, forming a partial blockade to the pressing crowd of evacuees, but they could do nothing about the familiar sentry who strolled right in.

"Ha, well that sounds about right, kid director." PFC Kreiss mock-saluted, grinning as he placed the requested supplies beside Lightning. She thanked him begrudgingly before he plowed on with his explanation.

_Probably better him than me, at this point. How sad is that?_

"You and the wife here ran into each other – and I mean_ literally_. Like full-speed, face-to-shoulder collision." He paused, smacking a fist into his other palm and chuckling a bit before he tacked on, "You were out for a couple of minutes. But the good news is, I don't think you broke her nose."

In confirmation, Sazh leaned down to take a look, commenting easily, "Nah, she's not bruisin'. Maybe broke a few blood vessels, but tha's it."

Hope turned his confused eyes back to Lightning, squinting up at her. When he focused on the crusting blood, his eyes grew to saucers.

"O-oh, damn— Light, I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, sitting up abruptly and twisting around to face her – a terrible move, she knew. He groaned and grabbed his head, slumping into her ready arms. Burning embarrassment crept up on her as she held him there, cradled like a child in front of a hundred strange faces, but she shoved it down and steeled herself.

_Cold compress, pills, water._

"Here you go!" Alyssa's cheerful voice piped up beside her as she handed off the cold compress. Lightning hadn't realised she was repeating her thoughts aloud like a mantra, and she shook her head clear.

"Wh-where did you come from?" she asked, gently pressing the chilly pack against the lump on the back of Hope's head.

"Oh, I was the one escorting your family out – that's all," Alyssa said, shrugging. She got to her feet and dusted her shorts. "But right now, I've gotta go muster with my department. Bye, everyone!" Sazh and Serah waved after her as she went, and Lightning unthinkingly pushed harder on the compress.

Hope hissed under the pressure, turning his face into her neck. "Is it over?" he asked tremulously, his breath tickling her skin. "Cocoon didn't… _crash_ while I was out, did it? I don't want to look."

_I don't really want to look, either. Why can't these people just disappear?_

Still, she made the effort to briefly glance up, absorbing the glow of the crystal moon overhead for the sake of his comfort – if it had crashed, they definitely would have heard, felt _and_ seen it. "No," she whispered back, tightening her hold. "Is that what the evacuation was for? They think the blackouts are serious enough to—"

"Yes," he cut in. "If it drains completely, we can't know what to expect. Not yet, anyway."

_So… why don't we just _stop_ draining it, now?_

A memory tweaked at the back of her mind – part of a lengthy conversation they'd had, sleeping up on the hangar roof the night after the emergency summit convened to address the Settlement's crisis.

"_Why'd you do it, Hope?" she asked him, almost inaudibly. Pinprick stars winked down at her, burning in her eyes as she imagined his imminent departure – not to those distant planets, but not exactly nearby, either._

We've barely been married a month…

"_Why'd I do what?" The response was innocent enough, but his tone suggested that he knew exactly what she meant._

_Lightning turned onto her side, propping her head on one hand and tilting his face toward her with the other. The moonlight was playing on his hair, giving it a halo effect, and she took a deep breath to steady her determination._

"_Why did you get involved like that today, instead of letting PSICOM and the Corps work out their _own _mess?"_

_He smiled, so serene about his coming reply that she couldn't, for once, fathom what was going on in his head. "It's not _their_ mess, Light. They included us in those negotiations for a reason. I saw a solution, so I suggested it. Simple as that."_

"_Oh, so you don't think Nooj was right?" she huffed, her chest searing as though she was personally slighted. "You _don't_ think it's a terrible idea to just keep using Cocoon as an energy source when it's so unstable? You'd rather try your luck with buffering to 'minimize damage' when it could be totally avoided?"_

_At that moment, he sighed heavily, like the sadness of the world was weighing upon him. "It doesn't matter what Nooj thinks, or what I think, personally. Not if PSICOM and the Settlement wouldn't be willing to act on it. That's what compromise is all about. They're willing to cut back on consumption while they build an alternative energy system and reinforce Cocoon, and that's the best we could hope for. I _do_ think Colonel Sabin will keep his word."_

_Lightning rolled her eyes, firing back at him, "Well that's not exactly good enough for Fang and Vanille, is it? They're just SOL if Cocoon comes crashing down."_

_Growling in frustration, Hope got to his feet and headed for the ladder. He paused at the top, facing her with a fire in his eyes that rivaled the intensity of their battle with Orphan, and said something she would never forget._

"_That, Lightning Farron, is _exactly_ why I got involved."_

"Excuse me, Sergeant Farron…" Another voice snapped her out of the reverie, and she looked up into the painfully concerned face of Colonel Sabin. "Excuse me, Sergeant, but— is he alright?"

She blinked, adjusting the compress as she took a deep breath to push down the ache that memory had revived. "Yes, sir. He might have a mild concussion, but that's all."

"I can handle a headache," Hope mumbled tiredly, the irony not lost on Lightning.

"Thank the goddess," the colonel breathed, so quietly that she barely heard it. He ran a hand through his hair and turned to PFC Kreiss, returning the private's instantaneous salute and dipping his head respectfully.

"Thank you for your assistance, Private. May I get your name?"

"I-It's Noel Kreiss, sir," he replied, almost at rigid attention as he fought his nerves.

The colonel brought a hand to his chin, studying the sentry for a long moment. "I think I can repay you. Wasn't your unit deployed during the Cavalry recruitment? I wanna say I remember seeing quite a few complaints in my comment box about that issue."

"Yes, sir," Private Kreiss replied, and Lightning rolled her eyes at the dumbfounded expression on his face. She took advantage of the distraction to grab the acetaminophen and coax Hope into swallowing two pills.

"Well, I have to agree that wasn't fair," the colonel continued, "so how would you like a second chance at getting in? You'd still have to take the required written and field exams, along with the interview, of course. But how does that sound?"

The poor boy's jaw hit the floor when Miles turned and flagged Snow down across the crowd, the giant man easily pushing his way toward their group. Dajh was tagging along behind him with Milo, who was apparently too absorbed in all the new faces – or perhaps the shiny bits of uniforms – to care about anything else.

After a quick introduction, Colonel Sabin explained the plight of the near-stupefied private who wished to join the Second Cavalry, and Snow whacked the young man on the back so hard that he stumbled forward.

"I bet you make it on the first pass!" he bellowed, the combination of so much open friendliness finally making PFC Kreiss relax a bit. He grinned and took a bow.

"I'll give it my best shot!"

Their laughter eventually died down, and Colonel Sabin looked intently at his watch before kneeling down beside Hope. "Well, Director, I'm off, so I'll leave you in the capable hands of your wife, here." He winked, and Hope groaned as his cheeks darkened.

"Roger that, sir," Lightning said, just pleased to see Hope's color returning. Her serious face was apparently the funniest thing he had ever seen, though – she could feel him shaking all over and smiling while he hid his face in her neck.

"Besides," Miles added lightly as he stood to leave, "they've probably finished the post-evac investigation by now. It's looking like we'll live to see another day!" He jogged off toward the main gate, the sea of uniformed personnel parting to let him through.

"Listen up for announcements, everyone!" he called out as he went.

"Born leader, that one," Sazh muttered sagely, and he scooped Milo off of Dajh's back to give his son a rest. Bouncing the boy lightly, he asked in a childish voice, "Who's gonna be our next big-shot, huh? Is it you, li'l man?"

"Hobe!" he squealed, craning his neck and pointing a chubby finger toward where Lightning sat with Hope resting against her. "Hobe has owwie!"

"Oh no," Hope groaned against her throat. "Now there's a _toddler _worried about me." Still, he couldn't help but laugh through the pain, and he motioned for Sazh to set Milo on the ground with them.

"I_ told_ you he could say his name!" Serah said happily, clapping her hands.

Snow was quick to wrap his arms around her from behind, a human wall against her back. "I believed you, babe! He's got your brains – came along with the hair."

"Well it sure ain't comin' from you!" Dajh quipped, sparking a brief scuffle when Snow tried to give him a noogie and Sazh pulled his Dad card like a penalty flag.

Below them, as the wobbly but determined pink-haired boy took a few steps into his aunt's knee, Lightning had to suppress the surging tide of discomfort – possibly the worst yet. She could feel the eyes on her, watching every move of her family as they ooh'd and aww'd over Milo's actions. It wasn't even that she feared their assumptions about whose child he was – which may or may not have been wrong – it was a feeling of violation. A fierce aversion to strange people, PSICOM or otherwise, intruding on her private life, her private moments, and the private moments of her loved ones.

_But I can't let Milo suffer for that. He's absurdly far from understanding anything but love and affection from us._

Pulling her nephew in jealously, she settled him on her right leg so he could pat his searching hands on Hope's face, as if that might confirm that his uncle was okay. She mused that the child's methods were half-baked beginnings for later medical practice. Playing along, Hope even said, "Aaah," and made any number of silly faces.

"And what's your diagnosis?" she asked Milo, earning a gigantic baby-toothed grin for even speaking. But then, to her eternal surprise, his perfect little lip started to tremble as he patted a hand on her nose.

"Owwie?" he asked. Lightning blinked rapidly, struck by the resemblance to her own sister at that age. Even now, the memories were strong, further reinforced by their constant replay in her dreams during five years of crystalstasis.

"_Owwie, Sissy?" Serah said, her big blue eyes spilling over with tears. She crawled over the couch cushions and laid her head in Claire's lap._

"_Yeah," Claire admitted, brandishing a polka-dotted bandage before she stuck it firmly to her scraped knee. "But Dad said this'll fix it!"_

Blinking back a tear, she looked into Milo's sad, expectant eyes. "Yes, Auntie got an owwie, too, but it's okay," she explained, for the life of her not believing her own need to do so.

Hope had been watching them intently with a soft smile, but he finally joined the conversation. "He's just like Serah," he sighed, and her heart wanted to burst.

Lightning nodded, passing off her small sniffle as an after-effect of the nosebleed.

_Yes, he's so much like Serah, but she really took after Dad._

_And Dad… was a lot like you._

She wondered then, sitting in the middle of that hot concrete grinder beneath Cocoon, surrounded by her family and dozens of PSICOM personnel, if a miracle really could occur. If the love of those who were gone just journeyed into the future through new and surprising channels, never truly lost.

If some love was strong enough to overcome death, in its own time.

After all, Fang and Vanille were still holding up the world.

* * *

**Endnote: Beta-roomie continues her funny editing remarks! Less this time for a shorter chapter, but here ya go!**

**When Light is thinking about how Hope has kept her out of the loop: "this is what I imagine every time Light wonders about Hope not telling her stuff: [miniature comic of Light and Snow… Snow: BECAUSE COMMUNICATION IS IMPORTANT, LIGHT, IT'S A—; Light: SHUT THE EFF UP, SNOW!]"**

**When Light replies that she doesn't recall asking: "omg YES LIGHTNING ILU U FIERCE B*TCH *heart*"**

**When the guard asks her the forward question about Hope's hair: "OMG STAB HIM IN THE EYE YOU DON'T NEED YOUR GUNBLADE, JUST STAB HIM WITH THE POWER OF YOUR RIGHTEOUS FURY."**

**When Light notes that she needs to go eastward: "see, Light has a sense of direction. :P"**

**After Light thinks about how Hope wouldn't care about what others said or did: "except when Snow killed his mother. AH GOOD TIMES."**


	4. Choking

**A/N: Chugging along in good time ^_^ It's hard to believe that this will be my second A/N right before a Navy Day Ball in the whole process since AiR, but there you have it. As I've mentioned to some, this particular chapter is crucial to my plot setup, and beta-roomie gave it the stamp of approval, so my happiness cannot be squelched! Really appreciate all the reviews and support from everyone so far – please drop a line on this chapter if at all possible to let me know your thoughts on the direction :D**

**I have a couple of anonymous reviewers to answer, so here it goes:**

**To LawMan – I think your instincts are solid, but you'll have to wait and see **** Appreciate the enthusiasm over Noel's introduction; I liked his snarkiness in-game!**

**To Kikko – Both Hope's and Light's positions are defensible, though you're right to think Hope needs to take action. Their main point of contention is a difference in approach, so it isn't that Light is strategically incompetent, it's that she isn't so much a people person and generally only deals with the military standard. Civilians are not her cup of tea, and she has trust issues. In any case, after the armistice at the end of AiR, it was not my intention to set PSICOM up as an ongoing 'villain,' so I'm sorry if something still appeared that way in SiB. Thanks for the feedback!**

[Songs for Chapter 4: "Sorry" – Our Lady Peace; "Goodbye Apathy" – One Republic; "Take Back the City" – Snow Patrol; "The Last of the International Playboys" – Stroke 9; "Heartlines" – Florence + the Machine]

Choking (on words)

"Well, I guess it goes without saying that I won't be wearing _this_ to the ceremony," Hope said mournfully, his heart far from behind the comment as he tossed the bloodied shirt into a laundry chute. The second he'd gotten a good look at Lightning's bundle of clothes toward the end of the evacuation, he'd recognised his beloved coveralls and wanted to smother her with kisses.

_But not out there. I still can't believe she let me just _lay_ on her like that._

He'd since had ample opportunity to act on his wishes, and now they were minutes away from leaving for the ceremony but still half-dressed.

Half-dressed in the sense that _she_ was practically dressed. And he only had boxers.

"I swear, Hope – you wait until the last possible second to put clothes on," she huffed, throwing the black t-shirt in his face with lethal force… had it been anything but cotton. Laughing, he tugged on the shirt and coveralls, tying the sleeves just above his hips as he was accustomed to doing in hot weather. He could already imagine the looks he would get from PSICOM colleagues and civilians alike for his odd sense of fashion. That thought was enough to remind him of the much more lasting impression they would be getting, though, if the colonel's plan succeeded.

_The gift… Now that I've seen them, I think I know what Miles is up to. I don't know what I was expecting when he said we needed to 'wear' them to the ceremony._

"Hmph, almost forgot…" He dug around in the pockets of his discarded pants, retrieving a bundle of tiny electronic devices – which he immediately stuffed in his coveralls' pocket – and the neatly folded red bandana with its black embroidery of the Pulse l'Cie mark. "Think I'll bring back an old look."

"What, the suburban cowboy nonsense from Palumpolum?" Lightning made a throat-slitting motion, unfazed by his flustered gasp as she went back to buckling the variety of belts on her new summer uniform.

Hope reached up and tied the bandanna over the top of his head – a style she would recognise from the armistice. "I meant _this_ look. It'll cover the stupid lump, too."

"Fine, fine – make your grand political statement," Lightning sighed, adjusting her vest and pulling at the hem of her skirt in a vain attempt to be modest. Hope thanked his lucky stars, again, that an upgraded version of the GC miniskirt ensemble had been officially reintroduced in the year following Lightning's return, though a little piece of his heart was saddened by the lack of a red cape. He felt proud to wear the one and only remnant of that item.

"It's not a political statement," he said plainly, crossing the room to explain. She was already so engrossed with putting on her boots that he had to unbuckle parts of her vest to catch her attention, dodging the swats she sent his way.

"_Stop_ it, you-you—" Lightning tried, but he covered her mouth with his and pushed her back on the bed.

Pulling away slightly as he held her there, he murmured sweetly, "I shouldn't have to pin you to plead my case, Light." Hope climbed up the rest of the way and straddled her on the covers, relishing the combined look of her puffed up glare and the obvious blush.

"Effective, though," he said wryly, laughing at the dark look she fired back that all but screamed, _I'll show you effective._

_And she really will throw me off if I don't make this quick._

"Just hear me out," he said in earnest. "I _am_ wearing this bandanna to make a statement, but it's _not_ political. I'm wearing it because it represents our journey as l'Cie, and because you gave it to me as an engagement gift." He leaned over her, their noses touching.

"So is it alright, Lightning, if I wear it in your honor?"

Exhaling deeply, and seemingly blowing out her aggravation with it, she placed her palms on either side of his face.

"How many times…" she said, shaking her head. "Just how many times have I told you, the bed is not your soapbox?" With a violent jerk, she rolled the two of them over, grinning triumphantly at the achievement before diving in for another round of kisses.

* * *

"Now," Lightning demanded, breathless, pinning his shoulders down, "you have to listen… to _me_." She pointed across the room at her objective for emphasis, a needless gesture as he was both dazed and in the wrong position to see it.

"Go put your boots on, Hope, or we're going to be late!"

The sudden pounding on the door startled the pair from their impromptu soiree.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Snow yelled through the thin wooden door between them. "If you two don't get out o' there, I'm gonna run out of excuses for all the racket and the delays. May just have to give Dajh 'the Talk!'"

Springing back from the bed, Lightning furiously refastened her buckles before raking her fingers through her hair. "I am going to kill that man…"

"Not if I kill him first," Hope growled, rushing around to grab his boots.

"I don't _need_ 'the Talk,' Snow!" Dajh's voice came through, more muffled from a hopefully greater distance. "I figured out _years _ago that people are jus' like chocobos, ya big lug! They breed! It can't be all that different."

Both of them froze, the shock a little much to take. They shared a horrified look.

"What in the name of all that's holy is goin' on?" And there was Sazh, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. "Son, _please_ tell me I didn't just hear you comparin' people to giant birds!"

"Nope," Serah intervened, even her giggling audible. "You just heard him comparing Sis and Hope to giant birds."

To top it all off, Milo squealed with delight, oblivious to the reason his parents were laughing.

_Of course, they are _all_ out in the hall, waiting for us. _She cursed under her breath.

"Light," Hope said sheepishly, ducking his head in shame, "I might never be able to face Dajh again."

Lightning let out an exasperated growl, circling behind him and pushing him along toward the door.

"Neither of us will be able to face _any_ of them if we don't get out there, _now_," she hissed in his ear.

Nodding, he sighed and opened the door.

"Hey, Hope!" Dajh said cheerfully, a wide, toothy grin indicating his utter delight at moving on from the previous conversation. "You look like your old self!"

Laughing, Hope patted Dajh's fuzzy hair. "Yeah, I missed me, too."

_Well that makes seven of us. Damn, why do I love those stupid coveralls? I can't be childish enough to think that an outfit _defines_ a person – not even my own uniform._

"Really, Dajh," Lightning offered, dead serious about her intent, "you don't stop being yourself just because you change clothes."

Snow guffawed and pretended to wipe away a tear. "Oh, that's beautiful! This from the woman who knows the _real_ Hope is—"

A pointed look from Sazh shut him up, but Hope blushed nonetheless. He fiddled with the tie on his bandanna and cleared his throat, checking the time on his watch. Lightning observed her brother-in-law shrewdly.

_Your mind may be stuck in the gutter, Snow, but you're essentially right – the real Hope is underneath._

"Let's just get going," Hope suggested, striding down the hall with purpose.

* * *

The world was dyed orange when they stepped out of the east gate and meandered among the stream of sentries toward the crowded central square. The setting sun's last rays splashed over Cocoon's western hemisphere to contrast with its cool blue light, dividing its surface between fire and ice. Hope had witnessed the same breathtaking sight last year, and he wanted badly to continue counting on the familiarity of the mourning ceremony's routine to settle his pounding heart. Unfortunately, he couldn't detract his own thoughts from the truth.

There was no possible way this ceremony was going to be the same.

Aside from the obvious pressure that came with being guests of honor, he had a mission to complete.

Once their little group had run into the fringes of the growing mass of people, he could hear the buzz of solemn conversation – even the friendly words of greeting carried a heaviness, as most of them bled into how this person or other had spent their day off to grieve. Tuning out a hundred condolences, he got each of his own family members' attention and asked them to huddle together.

"Okay, listen up," Hope said, keeping his voice low but loud enough to be heard over the residual chatter. "The colonel's asked me a serious favor, and I'm going to need all of your help."

"You're telling us_ now_?" Snow asked incredulously, silenced by a whack on the back of his head by Lightning.

"Of _course_ he's telling us now. There's no chance of surveillance here."

Hope stifled a shaky laugh and cleared his throat. "Anyway," he continued, pulling the bundle of devices from his pocket, "like I said – he's asked us to wear these."

"Oooh," Dajh said, his face lighting up. Everyone, Hope included, snapped their questioning eyes to the boy.

_He _knows _what these are?_

"What?" the lanky boy protested with a shrug. "It's been forever since I saw Maqui's mini-mic gismo. He let me use one to whistle at the chocobos a while back, but it was a whole lot _uglier_ than this thing."

_Maqui developed these? That sneaky little—_

Shaking his head, Hope pressed on. "That's right. These are microphones." He passed them around and held his own in his palm, demonstrating how to turn it on and off, then fitting the device over his ear.

"You'll hook them on like this and wait. It's my understanding that the colonel wants to ask for our responses directly, so don't turn them on until he does that."

Scuffing his shoes on the pavement nervously, Dajh asked, "But what're we s'posed to say?"

"It's not like he gave us a script," Snow said candidly as he toyed with the mic in his palm, prodding it with his finger like a child would poke his captive earthworm.

Serah just mumbled, "Maybe it's not… you know, anything complicated. Like short self-introductions or something." Adjusting the sleepy child in her arms, her uncertain gaze shifted to Hope automatically. He could tell she was all for assisting the colonel, but that didn't eliminate the fear.

_I can't say I blame them. It's nerve-wracking enough to think about this official introduction before the entire population. The last time we were broadcast to the public, we were being _hunted_._

_But I can't let that stand in the way of progress, not now. Fear is our enemy as much as it is theirs._

Hope sighed and scratched at the bandanna on his head. "Just… tell the truth. Whatever it is he expects from us, he'll want it to be honest. He trusts us to say something important to all these people, so let's trust him to ask the right questions, okay?"

Beside him, Lightning's mouth had tightened into a thin line. "Did he happen to mention a purpose to this exercise?" she asked pointedly.

"Well, he said—" Hope began, hesitating as he briefly glanced at the crowd around them for any suspicious persons. Satisfied, he lowered his voice and continued warily, "He said that it was for Fang and Vanille. I agreed… that we would do this for them."

A weighty, dragging moment of silence passed over the group, deep consideration drawn on their faces. Not surprisingly, it was Lightning who reacted first – she looked him directly in the eye as she reached up to hook the mini-mic piece over her ear, shaking wisps of her hair forward to conceal it. A cautious smile quirked the corner of her mouth.

"I can get behind that."

Hope felt his own face mirror her expression, and he slipped his hand into hers.

"Well now, count me in!" Sazh laughed, joining the others as they all attached their mini-mics with a sense of anxious determination. He clapped a hand on Lightning's shoulder.

"Been followin' you this long, soldier girl – no sense turnin' back."

"Who said you were following _me_?" she muttered, but any response he may have given to the remark was swallowed in the crowd's sudden rise in volume. Up to that point, they'd only heard soft conversations as civilians and soldiers alike met up in the square with their spherical lamps – objects to be lit and carried back to residents' homes in honor of the dead. The noise was probably a reaction to the leadership stepping onto a platform set up in front of the fountain. Hope couldn't see it over the heads of so many people, but he knew someone who could.

Grabbing Snow by the sleeve, he asked loudly, "Hey, can you see the fountain?"

"Yeah," Snow bellowed over the noise. He waved a hand in its general direction. "Looks like the colonel's on stage – think they're doin' PA tests now. Are we s'posed to be up there?"

"No, just close enough to get there when they call us," Hope replied, leading Lightning along by the hand while the others followed Snow to weave through the masses. As they brushed arms with more and more people, he could feel the hesitation in her pull against him, and he stopped for a moment to face her, gripping both of her hands tightly.

"We don't have to _stay_ up there, Light – remember?"

"I _know_," she fired back, her eyes hardening. She took a deep breath and stepped closer to speak right next to his ear. "I said I'd back you up, and no amount of claustrophobia or-or _whatever _this is can change that."

His hands trembled slightly around hers, the absurdity of it making him choke out a short laugh. If he hadn't been wearing his gloves out of habit, she would certainly have felt how his palms were starting to sweat. "Listen, I… I'll tell you a little secret," he said, smiling apologetically.

"I'm kinda scared, too."

* * *

Lightning had no qualms, for a single skipped heartbeat, about the wide-eyed stare she was giving Hope in response to his claim.

"Why—? Who even said I was afraid? And-and what the hell are_ you_ scared of?" she stammered, narrowing her gaze as if to peer into his mind for the answer. "Don't you _know_ these people?"

_Haven't the meetings and diplomatic nonsense and working with Colonel Sabin prepared you for this at all?_

Sighing, Hope merely shrugged as he released her, defending tiredly, "Stop looking at me like I should be an expert on _everything_ here. I'm not immune to stage fright." He tightened the knot on the back of his bandanna, wincing a bit as he grazed the lump on his head. Then he turned to maneuver through the crowd once again, hands firmly stuffed into his pockets.

Lightning had just begun to catch glimpses of the stone fountain's central domed fixture between the heads of the people just in front of them, her anxiety growing with every step. She pressed into Hope's back, clenching a wad of his coveralls at the waist to avoid being separated, but he did not respond to the touch or turn around.

_Guess that was a little insensitive of me—_

"Attention, everyone!" some unfamiliar official announced over the PA system, the sudden order freezing Lightning and Hope in place as the entire crowd went still. "We need silence on the floor!"

Lightning lifted up on her toes, leaning in to whisper, "Who's that?"

Twisting his neck to whisper back at her, Hope's words were sharp and to-the-point, sounding foreign to her ears in his voice. "Not that it matters, but he's one of the older department heads. He'll be introducing the colonel."

_He seems upset_, Lightning thought dismally. She ran her free hand through her hair, working out a plan of action. The simple fact was that they needed, more than anything, to present a united front. Around them, and all across the square, the volume had picked up a tad since the silence half a minute before – she decided there was still time to chance a conversation.

"Hope?" she asked tentatively.

"Hm," was his noncommittal response.

An apology seemed like such a shallow method to solve things, so she took a different approach. Snaking one arm around his waist, she pulled herself closer.

"You're going to do just fine," she assured him, her tone quiet but firm. "_Better_ than fine. Just don't worry, alright?"

She felt him jolt in place, and he turned himself around inside her relaxing hold.

"Thanks," he murmured, gently raising her chin to face his half-hearted smile. "I wasn't trying to be snappy. It's just… I'm gonna _have_ to do better. If I don't, it'll make things harder on—"

"Citizens of Cocoon's great Settlement," the same official began, "the sun has set. I am honored to announce the start of this evening's ceremony by presenting our commandant, Colonel Miles Sabin."

Shaking his head as he glanced around frantically, Hope tried to find a path through the remaining crowd, a solid fifteen to twenty meters of bodies separating them from the platform by Lightning's estimation. Unfortunately, his attempts only succeeded in earning judgmental glares on every side for his apparent pushiness.

_These people don't recognise him,_ Lightning realised, but that knowledge did them no good. It would be worse to try and explain themselves, disturbing the citizens with possibly futile words in the middle of such a silent, somber event.

_Well, we'll have to speak up eventually, whether or not anyone else likes it. I'll take the hit for this delay when I get the chance._

As the colonel started in on expressing his gratitude for the citizens' attendance, the thought crossed her mind that Miles might have foreseen the very obstacle they'd come against – that he'd chosen to use the mini-mics not just for secrecy, but for practicality. Lightning smirked to herself as she absorbed that truth.

_When it comes down to it, if he's questioned about equipping us like this, he has a solid reason. And I'd be willing to bet that he _did _mention wanting us to say a few words at this ceremony to his colleagues, but the rest of the leadership would've assumed that he meant via the on-stage mic, where they could control our available time and feed, interrupting as needed. _

_How crafty of you, sir._

Suddenly, she felt inspired to make their opportunity count.

"And as you all know," the colonel segued out of his opening formalities, "we've observed the custom every year, for eight years now, of recounting the final events before the fall of our homeland. It's a tradition that gives us perspective, and teaches the next generation an important lesson – that you can't look forward to the future without first reflecting on the past." He paused dramatically, letting those words sink in before he continued.

"Many things have changed in this Settlement since it was established. We've already had to survive an internal conflict and a deadly epidemic, and now we face an energy crisis – as this afternoon's outage so clearly demonstrated. But through all of this, we have persevered. We've learned from our mistakes and adapted to the changes, and we will continue to do so."

Pausing again, they heard the colonel clear his throat over the PA system. Lightning deemed it the only note of nervousness that he would betray, because she could guess where he was going next.

"In the spirit of this progress, and in honor of this ninth Landing Festival," he pressed on, "I've invited a few long-misunderstood guests to lend me a hand. Some of you may know them personally or professionally by name, but all of you probably recognise them as the former l'Cie."

A surprised murmur rolled over the crowd, and Lightning felt her blood pounding in her ears as the word 'l'Cie' hit them, the term bouncing around in whispers on the air. She loathed the shrinking feeling that followed, but she kept her head high. Reaching down for Hope's hand, his immediate and insistent grip told her that she wasn't alone.

"Alright, that's enough speculation," the colonel ordered, and a hush fell over the square. When he spoke again, a strange note of humor entered his tone.

"Director Estheim, I can't see you out there. Would you identify yourself, please, Hope?"

Beside her, Lightning heard him suck in a breath as he released her hand to shakily switch on his mic. He tapped it twice experimentally, the small thumps instantly echoing back at them through the PA system.

"A-apologies, sir," Hope said, and even before he raised his arm in the air to wave toward the platform, the sudden sound of his voice drew dozens of curious, surprised, or confused eyes to his position. "We didn't… quite make it through." At those words, many of the people packed in near them somehow found enough room to step aside – a courteous gesture, but essentially useless given the density of bodies in the square. Less than two feet of clearance was still all that separated them from the immediate group of citizens.

It was clear from the looks on their faces that none of them had recognised Hope before the announcement, as Lightning had suspected. She felt her hackles raising over their ignorance – despite rationally knowing that was unfair – and she took his arm in a vice-like grip. She involuntarily locked her attention onto a young girl with platinum braids, certainly no older than Dajh, who was watching Hope with her wide brown eyes. She'd raised her hand and opened her mouth as if to get his attention, but once her eyes met Lightning's she froze. The woman beside her, probably her mother, whispered something in her ear, and she shied away.

_Well, they don't seem to be afraid of us – at least not in the usual sense._

Apparently spotting Hope, the colonel called back, "No need to apologise – you can speak from out there, if you like. Are the others with you?"

"Just Lightning," Hope replied, swallowing thickly in reaction to the intrigued or incredulous stares still hitting them. He faced her, a reluctant request in his eyes for support.

And she turned on her mic without a second thought. "Sir," she began, her voice surprisingly steady, "the others got ahead of us."

"We're over here, sir!" came Snow's loud declaration from the front right side of the crowd, his mic crackling under the strain of such volume. She could hear the chatter of her sister and Sazh as they corrected him, and a moment later each of their voices sounded off over the PA system. Even Milo made some unintelligible sound near his mother's mic.

"Good, good," Colonel Sabin announced happily. "No one's missing. Now, as none of you were aware – not even my very resourceful director – I've invited you all here to help me tell a story. It's time we shed new light on those events leading up to the fall." He had to stop there for a moment and silence the crowd again, his next words laced with a necessary edge of authority.

"Citizens, we're doing this for your sakes. Every member of this enlightened society – every single person who lost a loved one at the hands of fal'Cie tyranny – deserves to know the whole truth," he said with conviction.

_Hmph, this is a risky scheme, isn't it?_

But the lack of any form of protest in the leadership spoke volumes to Lightning about the PSICOM officials' probable mindsets. She could guess that they either supported the colonel whole-heartedly, or they were uncertain but afraid that speaking out against him would only validate his claims. He had set it up in such a way that left no room for disruption.

Surprisingly, her respect for his unconventional strategic methods grew.

From the platform, Colonel Sabin clapped once. "That said, we should begin at the beginning – back at the activation of the Pulse Vestige in Bodhum. We've known for years now that the first l'Cie, Oerba Yun Fang and Oerba Dia Vanille, awakened from that very spot, and we know that activity on the site was what led to the Purge, but what's the point in someone like _me_ telling you this?" The tone was such that Lightning could practically picture him throwing up his hands. Whatever was going on beyond her field of vision, it had to be engaging. She'd never witnessed such a massive group of people remain pin-drop silent before, and she suspected she might never see it again.

"I wasn't there," Miles said, almost regretfully. "I was a junior PSICOM officer, watching the pandemonium unfold from a safe distance. So I would like to ask Serah Villiers, formerly Serah Farron, to please lead us out with _her_ account."

"I-I suppose that makes sense," Serah stammered nervously, shushing Milo's soft noises, and Lightning was grateful that he gave her sister something to hold onto. "I was curious… about the historical significance of the Vestige, so I'd gone exploring it on my own, just days before the quarantine was placed on Bodhum. It was too late for me, by then – I was already branded by the Pulse fal'Cie, and I-I thought my life was over."

"That's true," Snow supplied, his usually exuberant voice low and serious.  
"Even when I asked her to marry me, and she did say yes, she was still thinkin' of how it was all about to end. Those were_ not_ happy tears."

Silently, Lightning forgave her brother-in-law his most recent annoyances.

_Whatever else you are, Snow, you're good to my sister._

"And you did turn to crystal not long after that, didn't you, Serah?" the colonel asked gently. "Did you even know you'd completed a focus?"

"No," she said, the word broken over the air. "I just… ran, like some scared child. I trusted my sister to make things right. That was the only thing that made sense to me, by then. She _never _gave up."

Colonel Sabin's sigh was clear, and through a gap that gave her a momentary glimpse of the platform, Lightning could see him turn away from his mic briefly. "I'm sure that faith was well-deserved, based on everything I've heard and seen about First Sergeant Lightning Farron." She could feel his gaze hit her across the crowd.

_I can't back down, no matter what._

"Lightning, if I may – is it true that you voluntarily boarded the Purge train for the express purpose of reaching your sister?"

"Yes, sir," she replied without a moment's hesitation. "And I'd do it again."

"Even though it led you down the path to be branded as a l'Cie, practically a death curse?"

Hope had twined his fingers with hers, his thumb rubbing circles on her hand, and suddenly her own similar question from a far-removed starry night echoed in her head.

"_Hope, do you wish that you'd never been a l'Cie, that none of it ever happened and life had just continued like it was designed to?" _

And in a chain-reaction, his discerning reply surfaced as well.

"_I don't think it matters, and it wouldn't be right to say that I'd wish for my mother's death and my father's disappearance – not to mention the destruction of our whole world – just for the chance to meet all of you. But that's how it happened, and there's no changing it." _

He had said one other thing at the end, just before they fell asleep, and those words gradually surfaced to brand themselves behind her eyes.

"Sir, I-I don't…" she tried, abandoning the false start – _knowing_ that the final sentence of Hope's answer years ago was still the most accurate representation of every one of their feelings on the matter. A bead of sweat trickled along her hairline as the silence stretched on, but she couldn't deny the all-consuming urge to repeat his words while she had the chance. For once, she didn't fight it.

"I hate the suffering we all went through…" she began, forcing herself to block out Hope's amazed eyes on her as she shared a piece of his heart with the entire Settlement. Lightning took a deep breath, her throat burning, and finished.

"But I love the rest."

* * *

_She remembered._

For a moment, Hope imagined himself back in that place – nineteen and full of dreams for a relationship that hadn't yet blossomed. He couldn't help the warmth that flooded him as he thought about how far they had come, far enough that Lightning Farron had just quoted him, over the air, to a crowd of thousands.

"Don't look at me like that," she muttered breathlessly, her cheeks crimson in the darkening hues of evening. Hope smothered a chuckle.

"I can't help it – you took the words right out of my mouth."

A short laugh from the colonel, its effect magnified by amused reactions from strangers and family alike, jerked them both back to reality. "Let's get back on track," Miles remarked. "Ironically, the next big event, which I'm sure everyone remembers, was the derailing of the Purge train."

_I don't want to think about it… not this part of the story,_ Hope thought to himself, his stomach twisting into knots.

But Lightning kept her account factual and concise, and Sazh did the same. When Hope's turn came around to toss in a comment, he merely mentioned that Vanille was also on the train, and that he'd followed her after the crash.

He was eternally grateful to Snow for catching on as well. When the NORA leader described his contributions, he offered simply, "Me an' the guys fought back with the help of some volunteers, but after the bridge got blown in half it was a lost cause. So we took off for the Vestige from there – still trying to get to Serah."

"Obviously, all of you," the colonel summed up, "with the exception of Dajh who was branded a Cocoon l'Cie, ended up inside the Vestige. You did find Serah, I take it?"

"Yeah, right before we found the fal'Cie," Snow said bitterly.

Lightning added, "Then we lost her again. She got all of a minute to say goodbye before her focus, whatever it had been, was complete."

"Not that I put much stock in the cryptic blatherin' of fal'Cie," Sazh also pointed out, "but that dirt-bag ring leader Barthandelus said that Serah's focus must o' been to bring us together. Now I'm not sayin' that's true, but it definitely _was_ true that they stooped to usin' my little boy to lure me into Nautilus later on, and he turned to crystal right then and there."

Dajh cut in, "But Dad, they didn't tell me anything about a focus. I barely remember the whole mess! I kinda remember Miss Jihl takin' care of me, but that's it."

From where he stood among the speculating audience, Hope was surprised that the colonel hadn't interjected with a comment at that point, but he assumed Miles was either intrigued or pleased with the direction the conversation had taken.

_I honestly don't think the population has ever heard this – not any of it._

"Doesn't matter, son," Sazh continued darkly. "Makes no difference to fal'Cie whether they're usin' a six-year-old boy or a grown woman for their tools, they'll use 'em till they either finish the job or break in the process. I saw Barthandelus shoot Miss Jihl dead in the capital – just decided he didn't need her anymore, and that was that."

Gasps on the platform and in the crowd were heard at the mention of Jihl Nabaat's demise, but Sazh was unfazed.

"And they _were_ using you to get to me, Dajh. I know it, 'cause it almost worked. I wanted to end it on the spot – ashamed to say I prob'ly would've done it, if it hadn't been for Vanille talkin' me down."

"Vanille… was always like that," Hope softly contributed, instantly wanting to swallow the words back down his throat, to erase the sympathetic looks coming his way. They were pitying him for all the wrong reasons – not that there really existed a _right_ reason for pity, in his estimation. The only gesture that he could accept was Lightning's subtle squeeze of his hand. She understood.

Back on the platform, Hope caught a glimpse of the colonel motioning for silence in the crowd again as he moved the topic forward. "Well, we will certainly be carrying lamps for our fallen leaders tonight. Thank you, Sazh, for shedding light on what really happened to the lieutenant colonel."

He paused in an incidental moment of silence, and then continued solemnly, "As everyone remembers, the casualties were widespread. I know it was terrifying – for _all _parties involved – to see the broadcasts on every screen in Cocoon as disaster unfolded. We watched Sazh and Vanille through the chaos in Nautilus, and I don't think anyone can forget the footage from Palumpolum when Lightning and Hope were surrounded on the roof."

_Oh no, he's going there…_

"Now, before any of us were aware of the fal'Cie conspiracy behind the Sanctum, I regretfully recall how encouraging that footage was to the military and the population. It was a sign that enemies – or _monsters_, as many ignorantly phrased it – were being hunted down and destroyed," Miles recounted, the discomfort around them so tangible that Hope thought some of the citizens looked nauseous. The overwhelming majority ducked their heads or averted their eyes. Only one girl, her platinum pigtails strikingly familiar, still fixed her questioning stare on him.

_Is that… the girl from Dajh's class? The one who called me out before that riot?_

"And I think it's only fair," the colonel continued before a sense of foreboding could fully settle over Hope, "that we hear these pieces of the flipside, today. After all, we can easily remember our own personal tragedies, and we've had this entire day to mourn those losses, but this ceremony is about the collective loss of our home." He stopped and cleared his throat.

"So Hope, why don't you start us off?"

His heart seized in his chest. "F-from where, sir?"

"From the roof. What was going through your mind up there?"

_So many things,_ he thought, fighting through a blur of older and newer memories. His feelings from that far-removed instance of being surrounded in Palumpolum had been echoed again near the very fountain reconstructed before them, where Serah had come to his defense despite every effort he'd made to protect her. One undeniable sensation stood out from both events.

_I was terrified._

"Fear," Hope replied bitterly, his body going numb as he focused on those moments that would forever be burned on his brain. "My first thought was, 'I'm gonna die here,' but that was before it hit me that we were _both_ going to die – and that was horrifying."

He felt Lightning's eyes searching him, seeking permission to cut in and assist, and he decided in the moment that it would be best for him to spare her the burden of explanation. Barely a breath passed before he moved on.

"She-she turned me around and _ordered_ me to survive," he said, the world around him so still that it almost unnerved him. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to finish.

"It was… My last thought was the worst of all – that Light was going to die, and I would _have_ to live."

_The second in a long line of unmerited sacrifices. _

Hope's jaw had locked shut then, refusing to let him say anything further in a voice that was about to break down. He felt fingers brush by his ear and shut his mic off with a quiet pop of static. When he finally opened his eyes to see Lightning turning her mic off as well, a trapped tear slid down.

"That's enough," she whispered, hugging his side protectively as though the crowd might press in and smother him. "You've done more than enough."

_No_, he thought, resting his tear-stained cheek on her hair. _It won't be enough – not if we can't do something for Fang and Vanille._

Colonel Sabin waited for what felt like the longest minute possible before speaking again, and it took Hope the entirety of that time to absorb the reason why. Gradually, across the square, he could hear the soft noises of sniffles and choked sobs. As Lightning caught on, she released her hold and stood beside him again – clearly no more willing to remain an object of alien sympathy than he was.

"That is certainly a sentiment we can all relate to," the colonel remarked soberly, his own voice quavering at the end. "We're living on today to give the sacrifices of our loved ones meaning. It took the deaths of millions to expose the fal'Cie for what they were – puppetmasters willing and ready to destroy us all. And they would do it to put on a show, to complete a ritual that they believed might bring the Maker back. As if the Maker would _want_ to return to such a world."

"More importantly," he said as if his next words contained a great secret, "it took the sacrifice of two young women to prevent our annihilation. After the former l'Cie defeated Orphan, as a handful of eyewitness accounts have told us, Fang and Vanille used the power of Ragnarok to create a pillar and seal Cocoon in crystal. And once their selfless mission was complete, they were entombed in the stem. But then, you all knew that part of the story."

A peppering of static came from the colonel's mic, indicating some kind of shift. And though Hope could barely see Miles' head on the platform, he could tell it was significant. Murmurs were passing through the crowd farther ahead, questioning in their tones.

Finally, the colonel explained himself. "I think it's time we all take a seat, except for my guests, of course. Please remain standing where I can see you."

Lightning was completely rigid beside him – she took a sharp breath through her nose as her grip tightened around his fingers, the entire combination of responses like a wild animal noticing it had been sniffed out by a predator.

_I suppose some things about her will never change,_ Hope mused, acknowledging that he, too, wanted to hide rather than be exposed. Then again, his hiding spot of choice would've been behind _her_.

Slowly, in pockets all around them, the sea of people began to ripple and recede as everyone took a seat on the ground. The little island where Hope and Lightning stood was barely a square meter, and they could easily see the cluster of the rest of their family about thirty meters away to the northeast. Dajh spied them first, gesturing timidly in their direction, and the others waved shortly after.

"Now, as I was saying," Colonel Sabin remarked, instantly back on target. Hope could see him sitting on the stage, his lower legs dangling over the side in a casual posture that had likely surprised the crowd. He absently tapped one heel against the platform as he measured out his next words.

"I think that this year, in honor of Fang and Vanille, we ought to find out something more about our very unlikely saviors. And here," he motioned, spreading his arms toward where the former l'Cie stood, "we have just the people for the job."

Heart thudding insistently against his ribcage, Hope knew he would have to speak again, with no mistakes. He knew that _this_ was the point where his input would count the most – where those who had come to respect him might take his words to heart. He needed to make the people see Fang and Vanille as fellow humans in need of protection, not dead goddesses on a pedestal.

But for the life of him, he couldn't raise his trembling fingers to switch on the mic. He couldn't seem to let go of Lightning's steadying grip in that moment.

"Sir…" Hope snapped his head over at the voice, sure that he'd heard wrong.

"I can tell you everything you need to know about our friends."

He hadn't even noticed Lightning turning on her mic.

And he had to wonder if his hesitation was to blame for the shock that followed.

* * *

_I have to do this_, Lightning thought bitterly, gritting her teeth. _I can't let them turn this into some memorial to the dead. Fang and Vanille are_ alive_._

_I'm sure the colonel means well, but they deserve better than a farce._

"It's the least I can do," she said, the words ringing clear in the night air. She kept her voice steady, holding tight to Hope's hand like an anchor as she refused to look at the masses sprawling out from her feet in every direction. Her eyes were locked on the commandant alone.

"Please share with us, Lightning," he requested, the tone eerily similar to a counselor of some sort. She hadn't heard a voice like that in many years, not since the high school had forced her into useless therapy sessions after her mother's death, but she could as easily forget the sound of that tone as she could shake the associated memories.

The suffocating, hollow sympathy then had practically driven her to the recruiters.

_Fang and Vanille don't need sympathy. They need _help.

Swallowing over her dry throat, she found clarity in her indignation. "I can tell you that Fang was loyal and fierce in battle, and that Vanille was kind-hearted to a fault, but there isn't really any point for me to keep on describing them."

"Why… is that?" the colonel asked, the hint of genuine surprise in his voice making Lightning smirk in spite of the gloomy atmosphere.

"Well, with all due respect, sir," she calmly informed him, "you can ask them in person, when they wake up. I'm sure _that_ will be a conversation worth hearing."

_Let's just see how you cover for_ this_ one. _

A near collective gasp filled the air when she spoke – whether it was because her words were news to the citizens, or because they thought her claim was preposterous, she couldn't be sure. With Hope, on the other hand, she could easily explain his reaction. In the dusk and luminescence emanating from Cocoon, Lightning saw his jaw drop and his face drain of color, as if the oxygen was being leached from his body. It was clear that he'd had no intention of breaching that sensitive barrier encasing the heart of the issue. Such abruptness, after all, was not very diplomatic.

_Sorry, but I've never put much stock in diplomacy._

Colonel Sabin, to his credit, did assuage the muttering crowd. Standing back to his feet, he dipped his head toward her and somberly replied, "I admire your faith, to hold out hope for their return for so long, even when it took them five hundred years to awaken on Cocoon. We've all known that feeling, of waiting for missing family and friends to magically reappear – it's a hope that can cut your heart out and drag it along until there's nothing left."

"But that's why we have this Day of Mourning. We have to give honor where honor is due, accept that the past is over, and move forward with our lives. That's what our lost loved ones would want."

The eloquent and convincing way that he'd turned her sentiments to his own advantage made Lightning's skin crawl, and she suddenly recognised why. She'd come to understand that the colonel was a good person, with good intentions, but she'd neglected to factor in one of his most prominent abilities.

Even perfectly good intentions required skillful manipulation to be useful – it was a winning strategy for powerful and influential leaders, human or otherwise.

And following that thought, she was far from surprised when her mic cut off with a tiny _beep_ of deactivation.

_I knew there was a reason I avoided this place._

A burning desire to hear her family speak up over the air in some form of protest fizzled out almost instantaneously. She didn't need proof to know that their mics were shut down as well, although the sudden lack of Milo's muted whimpers in the background was a pretty good indicator.

Hope, for his part, still looked utterly baffled – his grip had long since released her hand in favor of the safety of his pocket, and his mouth was sealed shut. She suspected he wouldn't be saying anything for the rest of the ceremony, which was quickly drawing to a close. Understanding all too well the aggravation of processing shock herself, she decided to leave him be.

"Now, if everyone would please rise," Colonel Sabin ordered, lifting his hands to emphasize his words, "and ready your lamps."

The grounds and stage filled with the sounds of shuffling and clinking glass as thousands of people stood and produced their globular lamps. Peering more closely, Lightning saw that they were fashioned like Cocoon – supported from the base by a pillar-shaped handle and with an opening similar to the Hanging Edge, through which she could see a candle wick.

_Clever design,_ she thought darkly._ I wonder how long they'll burn._

* * *

Mind buzzing in confusion and disbelief, Hope barely registered that the final order of the evening was upon them. He nervously played with a forgotten screwdriver in his left pocket, running his fingers along the grooves in its handle. Secretly, after what Lightning had done, he worried that glares from the platform might pierce him if he made eye contact, so he monitored what was happening in furtive glances.

"I'll ask you to light them now," Colonel Sabin said, bringing the ceremony to a close. He held a lamp of his own aloft. "Honor the memory of your loved ones, your homes, and your lives on Cocoon. We'll be joining you as well, and I trust everyone to maintain silence in all public areas tonight."

There was no formal word of dismissal, but the commandant took a bow and left the stage – a cue to disperse, as everyone around them finished lighting the wicks in their lamps and slowly began to shuffle away from the platform area. The citizens were headed home, following practiced paths to the residential district.

Last year, Hope remembered rushing back to the worksite the instant he was dismissed and scaling one of the stanchions. He could see over the antenna-riddled roof of Central's complex from there, with Cocoon's underside glowing above – the ideal place for watching that procession of lamps, flickering fragments of Cocoon's legacy, as they slowly floated southward to fizzle out on new hearths. It had seemed profound, almost whimsical then, but now all he could think about was the sinking truth: that these people continued to cling jealously to the fragile shell of their homeland for survival. It had taken a single mention of Fang and Vanille's awakening to revive their deep-seated fears.

And the worst part, Hope had to admit, was that those fears were likely justified. No one could guarantee that the Pulsians' exiting the pillar would _not_ decrystallize the entire structure – in fact, it seemed more logical to assume that it _would_. External monitoring readouts had already shown that energy patterns throughout the crystallized moon and pillar were completely interconnected. That obviously didn't make it fair to insist that the two women remain trapped, sitting ducks if the shell was drained and collapsed, but he had yet to find a means to help them.

_Tonight… it was supposed to be a perfect opportunity to shed some light on Fang and Vanille as people worth cherishing. Miles didn't even have this kind of freedom to direct the ceremony in our favor before, and after this incident, he might just lose it again. It was an all or nothing shot._

Hope had witnessed the colonel's methods for dealing with touchy situations so many times that he had seen the direction he was taking almost from the get-go. Once he'd opened the floor for them to humanize Fang and Vanille, he could've segued into the notion of protecting not only Cocoon, but the ones who had sacrificed themselves to save it. After all, PSICOM's steadily increasing restriction on energy consumption was one of the only tools available to prevent collapse, and the more factors they had to encourage people to conserve, the better. The increasing frequency of protest demonstrations against the new measures in recent months proved that such encouragement was necessary.

But that entire line of the colonel's argument was cut short the instant their attention was diverted to fear, not appreciation, of Fang and Vanille. He had spent the last of his precious time defusing it.

_Light, why did you have to throw it in their faces like that?_ Hope thought miserably._ You _heard_ what PSICOM assessed when we signed the non-interference agreements, but did you really think the citizens were left in the dark? That they didn't know – and fear – what might happen if Fang and Vanille came back? _

Hope remembered the colonel's words from one of their first private discussions, when he'd answered a few questions about Fang and Vanille's predicament along with specific restrictions of the non-interference agreement. By way of explanation, Miles had recounted points from a series of post-armistice public forums to give PSICOM's operations transparency and regain trust with the population. Laughing mirthlessly, he had admitted a simple but disturbing fact.

"_Hope, the price of letting them know the truth about how Cocoon was saved – and what we're doing to sustain it – is that they also know how it can be lost."_

The pressure of Hope's opposing motivations seemed to crush his head like a vice, and he stood in place for a while, rubbing his temples. The familiar girl, who he now felt certain had been the one in Dajh's class years ago, waved timidly as she departed with her mother, and he absently waved back, his mind too full of everything else to really appreciate that friendly gesture.

It took several minutes for enough of the crowd to disperse so that he and Lightning could move from their spot – she tugged on his arm then, urging him forward. Frustration threatened to consume Hope, so he was glad for the order to maintain silence. He refused to meet her eyes, which would've been a dead giveaway to his feelings, and nodded once in acknowledgement, weaving through the thinning streams of people toward the rest of their family. He suspected that Serah and Sazh, at least, were aware of the tension hanging over them on that unnecessarily long walk back to the east gate, but he wouldn't have asked them even if he could have done so.

Hope wondered if the first word spoken might just blow everything wide open.

Once they entered the lobby, still trapped in the silence, it didn't seem that anyone was willing to speak. They all jumped when Snow stretched and yawned.

"Heh, that was somethin' else," he remarked, oblivious to the rigidity that suddenly overcame everyone. "I think Sis wanted to start a riot!"

"What are you talking about?" she snapped. She was still hovering defensively at Hope's side, and he hated knowing how she would be blindsided when he _did_ open his mouth.

His throat felt hot and thick, as if it sensed what was coming would make a mess of things, but he pushed the words out anyway.

"He's right, Lightning. You freaked those people out – if the colonel hadn't settled them down, they _could_ have rioted," he explained, forcing himself to remain calm. "Of course, there are worse things at stake."

As predicted, she stepped away from him like she'd been knocked back by a barrier, countering reflexively, "You _know_ that isn't true! Those people aren't anywhere near bold enough to start a riot. They'd just go crying to PSICOM to 'handle' the situation. Case in point, the commandant certainly didn't waste any time—"

"Lightning," Hope cut in, his voice quiet and hard, "this isn't the time or place to discuss it."

He'd kept his gaze on the ficus, the floor, the glowing rank on her shoulder – anywhere but her eyes – until that moment. From the cold anger he saw there, he knew she was sorting out the layers of conflict that weighed on his mind, laid bare behind his gaze. And she didn't like what she'd found.

"Right," Lightning bit out, crossing her arms in a fully defensive stance. The chill practically radiated from her. "Be sure to inform me when you _decide_ on a time and place, Director."

"You know perfectly well why I said that, _Sergeant_," Hope fired back. He could feel his self-control slipping, his hands tightening into fists, but some miniscule shred of logic urged him to make sure he was clear. Surveillance was still a threat.

Lightning snorted derisively. "That's _First_ Sergeant. I did earn my promotion."

Hope's jaw fell open, but he quickly snapped it shut. There was nothing more he could say – not with the fire raging in his chest in spite of attempts to reason with himself. He could no longer hold her gaze, and he knew he would regret whatever words came out of his mouth with such a volatile mindset. Growling in indignation, he spun on his heel and strode toward the lobby doors.

No one dared stop him.

* * *

**Endnote: Beta-roomie had a hey-day with the early portion of this chapter, and she honestly had a lot to say throughout as well. Stand by for a loooong list of fun!**

**When Hope says he wants to bring back an old look and Light worries he means from Palumpolum: "Hope, you made that fashion choice when you were 14. That alone should tell you bringing it back is a bad call."**

**Right after, when he says it will cover the stupid lump on his head: "It'll cover something stupid, that's for sure. /sarcasm :P" SERIOUSLY BANDANNAS ARE NOT CEREMONY WEAR, HOPE. STOP PRETENDING YOU'RE DOING THIS FOR A REASON. YOU ARE NOT CINNA." – Hthar: if it's good enough for Snow, it's good enough for Hope *shrugs***

**At the mention of the GC bringing back the miniskirt: "oh all the EO (Equal Opportunity) violations"**

**When Hope says he isn't making a political statement: "Yeah you should totally write 'LEGALIZE MJ' on it in black sharpie, that should be clearer. And it's fitting with your 14-year-old fashion choices, too."**

**Right after he pinned Lightning: "why do all your scenes with them start to sound like the beginning of a porno? (Are the pregnancy hormones doing it? …were they somehow doing it for the past two years? :P)" – Hthar: for the record, I like some fluff here and there, and I know what newlyweds/reunited lovers act like *eyerolls***

**When Light's expression indicates that she will show him effective: "yeeeeah you will [cue porn music]"**

**After Hope explains why he's wearing the bandanna: "oh PLEASE Hope, it's totally political and you know it."**

**After Dajh explains why he doesn't need 'the Talk': "oh god they make chocobo!furry porn, don't they? Oh holy dear lord." – Hthar: for the record, HECK NO.**

**When Lightning notes that everyone is waiting in the hall: "And listening like total creepers. Weird. THEY NEED BETTER HOBBIES."**

**After Hope says he doesn't think he can face Dajh: "it's cool Hope, he's seen chocobo porn; he's good."**

**When Snow tries to make a quip about Lightning's explanation of how people aren't defined by what they're wearing: "oh lord this reads like a dirty line lol." – Hthar: that's because his mind WAS in the gutter.**

**Between Lightning shaking her hair over the mic with a smile and expressing her support: "sexy. :P"**

**When Lightning asks Sazh 'who said you were following me?': "The gamemakers, obvsly."**

**Between Hope getting cut off as he explains why he needs to do better and the opening announcement: "hahaha I see what u did thar"**

**After Lightning's thought that it is a risky scheme: "Yeah no kidding."**

**When the girl with the pigtails stared questioningly at Hope: "that's cos she was like 5 years old. :P" – Hthar: for the record, she was 6-7**

**After Lightning's thoughts about not putting much stock in diplomacy: "Haha yeah not so much lol."**

**When Lightning's mic was deactivated: "Yep. Totally a Slytherin" – Hthar: I think she was referring to Miles.**

**After Lightning wonders how long the lamps will burn: "oooh, I like the ominous feel"**

**When Hope says it isn't the time or the place for discussion: "I am loving the tension here"**

**After Lightning snaps at him and refers to him as Director (and Hope subsequently refers to her as Sergeant): "oh sh*t son, someone's sleeping on the couch. this is for both of you"**

**When Lightning spells out her full rank and remarks that she earned her promotion: "haha omg, of course she would. (honestly, I thought her correction was hilarious ^_^)**


	5. Let Me Down

**A/N: Despite her recent migraines, beta-roomie has seriously come through on this chapter (not the least of which was in her hilarious notes)! Guess it helped that it was a bit shorter than my usual, but given the heaviness of the content, much more would've been overload. Trust me. On a totally different note, I'd like a little feedback regarding my song lists at the beginnings of the chapters – just want to know if anyone's checking them out, etc., since I selected them very specifically for relevance and/or mood. Other than that, you guys have been AWESOME ^_^ Enjoy your well-deserved continuation of the conflict.**

**To the anonymous reviewers:**

**XienRue – Welcome to the party! Hehe, couple fights can be engaging or downright annoying based on how they play out, so let me know what you think!**

**LawMan – Yeah, she surprised me as well. Believe it or not, that wasn't planned in advance, but Light kind of insisted… It happens. A lot. The woman is on her own program. Ah the drama *sigh* I hope you find the progression interesting.**

**AND for everyone, here's a little pre-reading info:**

***AF – After Fall (the fall of Cocoon); this was the year system implemented in FFXIII-2, and I thought it was perfectly suitable, so I kept it here :D**

[Songs for Chapter 5: "Middle of Yesterday" – Our Lady Peace; "Are You Ten Years Ago" – Tegan and Sara; "It's Beginning to Get to Me" – Snow Patrol; "No Light, No Light" – Florence + the Machine]

Let Me Down

Silence prevailed in the lobby long after the door slammed behind Hope.

"Wow, Sis," Serah said softly, finally breaking it. The anguish on her face was enough to thaw through some of the frozen barrier around Lightning, and her words practically drove a spike into its weakest point. "That was just… cruel."

Still unwilling to let her guard down, Lightning recoiled from her sister's quiet, honest criticism – that and the rightfully judgmental looks coming from everyone else,_ including_ Dajh. She could sense the impending avalanche of condemnation hanging above her, and she couldn't process a safe way out.

"I'm going to bed," she said with finality, storming past them down the corridor, whipping to the right, and making time to her door. She dug the keycard from her pocket and fumbled with the slot, her hands shaking in anger. She shoved the door open the instant it unlocked, slamming it shut behind her and flipping the deadbolt as if that could provide some extra protection from the guilt trying to force its way inside.

_She's right. Goddess, she's right. Why did I say that?_

But she knew exactly why she'd taken that personal stab. Some insecure part of her felt that he'd betrayed her trust – she had trusted him to agree _with_ her and fight _for_ her. Not against.

_I thought we wanted the same thing! To defend Fang and Vanille…_

Stripping off her accessories one by one, followed by her boots and vest, Lightning left a trail of items from the doorway to the bed, where she collapsed stomach-first into the tangle of sheets. Her pendant was mashed painfully into her breastbone, but she refused to do anything about that. She grabbed the nearest pillow and buried her face in it, shouting a string of frustrated nonsense and curses into the fabric until her eyes began to burn. Even then, she held back the tears as she took deep breaths to calm herself. That, however, turned out to be a mistake.

The pillow didn't smell like him, and it didn't smell like her. It carried the distinctive scent of hotels and vacant barracks and the guest rooms of personal homes. Lightning hated that foreign smell. She hated everything that it signified.

Another reluctant breath brought the separation and transient lifestyle they had been cornered into straight to the forefront of her mind. It was suddenly, achingly clear to her why things had broken down to such a huge misunderstanding. Bringing a fist up, Lightning smacked it into the fluff. She cycled through crying and punching out her anger at Hope, to anger at the colonel, to anger at PSICOM, to anger at the Settlement, until she finally came full circle to anger at her lonely self.

_This is pointless,_ she thought, a hole opening in her stomach where so much warmth had been just hours before. _I used to need nothing more than the clothes on my back, a weapon, and the means to survive._

She growled into the pillow again, knowing all too well when she was lying to herself in a sad attempt to ignore the even more pathetic truth.

_Who am I kidding? Back then – that was just another coping mechanism. I wasn't happy, and pushing everyone away never did fix the problem. But now that I _know_ what it's like to be happy again, I'm… _

_I'm _afraid _to lose him._

"You may just do that, Farron," she muttered to herself, the acidic words burning as they came out. "If you keep _this_ up."

A timid knock on the door made her freeze, and it was quickly followed by the gentle voice of her sister.

"Sis… can I come in, please? I think we should talk about this—"

"Leave me alone," Lightning called toward the door, keeping her voice as uninflected as she could. "This is not your problem."

There were no footsteps to indicate she had left, and after a short pause Lightning heard her aggravated sigh. "Fine," Serah acquiesced. "But I-I'm sorry for what I said."

Lightning was about to ask her to please not bother apologising when soft, fading footsteps and the click of another door announced Serah's departure.

_Only cowards depend on mediators. The least I can do is fight my own battles._

* * *

_She _still _doesn't take me seriously!_ Hope thought bitterly to himself, the hurt and previous frustration propelling him through a maze of empty corridors. It was a miracle he arrived at the central worksite at all, instead of ending up in some forgotten storage locker.

Eyes beginning to sting, the only goal he could focus on was the need to escape – further than he already had. He jogged to the nearest stanchion, starting into the climb up its metal framework without a single care about the gut-twisting seventy-foot drop through the cloud of crystal dust. If there was one thing he refused to fear, it was falling.

Hope finally reached a cross-beam just above the halfway point and hauled himself onto it, letting his legs dangle as he loosely wrapped his left arm around one of the vertical beams for support. From that perspective, facing inward for a change, he could see directly across to where Fang and Vanille were crystallized. Unlike the view from the ground, their shapes were distinct – they floated gracefully in the pillar, tiny figurines locked in a single pose of some mystical dance.

Seeing them that way, at peace and together, he could almost envy them. A person could certainly do worse than to be crystallized eternally with the one she loved most. Of course, Hope and the other former l'Cie had long since given up entertaining that sentimental notion. The armistice and the emergence of the energy crisis had inadvertently led them to hope, desperately, that their two friends might awaken and avoid what seemed like imminent death.

In that respect, he could understand where Lightning was coming from, but the thought made him growl in frustration yet again.

"Do I always have to be the _understanding_ one?" he ground out, clenching his fingers over the lip of the beam he was sitting on. His current position and accumulated experiences had exposed him to every side of the issue, to so many faces and stories, until the omnidirectional pull threatened to tear him apart. The tightness in his chest refused to release, and hot tears eventually leaked from his eyes to bleed off some pressure.

_The woman has no concept of how this place operates, or who these people are. She's obviously suspicious of Miles, and she… Ugh, she outright insulted me!_

A tiny voice in the back of his mind continued to reason with him, explaining by means of review just how Lightning's motivations could have played out to such a hurtful conclusion. It reminded him, over and over, of how her most hostile and heartless actions had ultimately been driven by fear – dating all the way back to her initial decision to leave him behind in the Vile Peaks to die. Then, she had been afraid of her own powerlessness to save her sister and deal with the l'Cie curse. The fear crippled her, blocking her ability to see anything beyond a singular, focused drive. He hadn't known it at the time, but he'd had plenty of opportunities to sort out, relate to, and even _mimic_ her methods.

_Am I really all that different myself?_

Hope choked out a dry laugh. He couldn't answer that question with much certainty, and he knew his own opinion would be biased. The more he stared at the two women in the pillar, the more he could feel his anger draining away to leave a void in his stomach – an emptiness that could only be filled once he made things right.

"With Light, at least," he sighed. There was no telling what repercussions might come from her bold declaration to Colonel Sabin in front of his subordinates and the entire Settlement, though Hope had to begrudgingly acknowledge that his own hesitation enabled her, and that it could've been much worse. The colonel would likely have it out with the rest of the leadership within the hour, reassuring them that Lightning's words were not an indication of rebellious intentions among the group of former l'Cie that he had personally invited on the premises.

Whatever else happened, Hope foresaw a change in their itinerary for the Day of Celebration. He could only pray that it wouldn't lead to workplace restrictions for himself.

_Well, this is definitely the last time that I let Lightning speak for me. She might be able to cite my words, but it's not exactly fair to expect her to channel my thoughts. _

Movement on the ground caught Hope's eye, and he looked down to see a lone figure approaching the base of the pillar with a glowing lamp in hand. Through the crystal particles floating below, it was difficult to see exactly who it was.

Not wanting to disturb that person's solemn moment, he quietly observed from his perch. The bobbing light from the lamp had come to rest directly below the pillar, probably planted into the small amount of soft soil that remained between the crystal roots spread over the ground. The rest of the floor was concrete, a sturdier base on which to build the stanchions.

The silence stretched on, and whoever remained near the pillar hadn't moved in at least a couple of minutes. Considering the limited access to the enclosure and the time of evening, he could only assume it was either a member of the upper chain of command or possibly Alyssa. Hope wondered if the person intended to speak with Fang and Vanille at all.

_If it's Alyssa, I would bet on her chatting._

"You know, it would be best if you came down," the visitor said resignedly. Hope instantly froze, not only surprised that it was the colonel, but that he had been found out so easily.

Below, after a brief stretch of silence, there was an exasperated sigh. "Yes, I know you're up there, Hope."

Hope sat up straight on the beam, almost overcorrecting his balance to teeter backward. He smacked his palm to his forehead and gathered himself to reply, "How on Pulse did you see me, sir?"

"I didn't," Miles said simply, "but I had a hunch, my friend. You have a remarkable tendency to run off and climb like a treed cat whenever something disturbs you." He laughed, adding on a more serious note, "That and I make it my business to know where you are."

With a grunt of effort, Hope started the climb down from the stanchion, huffing as he went, "What's a guy gotta do to get some privacy?"

The colonel laughed again, but the humor had evaporated from it. "You know well enough – leave the facility, where Access Control can't track you."

Hope dropped to the ground from the final beam, crossing to the base of the pillar. He felt like he had a hundred questions to ask Miles, but decided to go with the one weighing heaviest on his mind.

"So tell me," he said, eye to eye with the colonel, "What's the damage assessment?"

Miles ran a hand through his hair and smiled ruefully. "I don't know, just yet. But if I had to guess, I'd say that once the other officers stop screaming at me about the _outrage_, the _audacity_, etcetera, they'll agree to a few conditions. One, that your family be kept out of this enclosure for the remainder of their visit – possibly longer. Two, that a guard be posted or else your access restricted to make sure you don't violate that condition. And three…"

Pausing, he cleared his throat, looking strangely uncomfortable about finishing the statement. Several seconds and a long, heavy breath passed before he did.

"Three, that Lightning either keeps a low profile tomorrow… or you disassociate yourself."

As if the first two conditions weren't cringe-worthy enough, Hope felt a wave of shock hit him on the third.

"_Disassociate_ myself?" he asked incredulously, throwing up his hands. "From my _wife_? Do you really think they're worried enough to take it that far?"

The colonel lowered his eyes, his brow furrowing, and crossed his arms. "Are they worried enough? Yes. Will they definitely take it that far? I wish I could say. I just want you to be prepared. No matter what comes up tonight, I have to make sure the leadership keeps its faith in_ you_ at any cost. It's not that I won't try to talk them down, but I can't let them use this as an excuse to restrict your work here. There are enough threats on the outside without throwing internal strife into the mix." Taking another deep breath, he locked his gaze on Hope again, all manner of doubts and concerns building storm clouds there.

"You understand, don't you, Hope?"

_Yes,_ he thought dejectedly. _I can't fail everyone now._

Hope reluctantly nodded his head. "I understand, sir. But…" he began, gathering his willpower to remain direct, "I hope you realise that I'm _not _staying away from Light – she means too much to me to just let this drive a wedge between us. Haven't you ever loved someone like that?"

Chuckling hollowly, Miles looked to his boots as he replied, "Once, a long time ago. We all lost something in the fall – for me, it was my fiancée."

The revelation made Hope bow his own head briefly, feeling sorry he even asked, but the colonel wasn't finished. He raised his eyes again, the stormy gray having faded to that depressing shade of heavy rainclouds.

"She was a lot like your sister, a tiny, gentle person housing an enormous heart. She even worked at a clinic, too, back in Eden." Pausing, he sighed and waved a dismissive hand as he finished, "But like I said, that was a long time ago."

Hope wondered, for an agonizing moment, if those similarities had been the very reason Colonel Sabin had helped Serah escape from her imprisonment – a fact he had finally pieced together after the night of Milo's birth, thanks to Serah's mention of the then-captain's involvement in their operation before the split. It was clearly more than just his integrity that had such a profound effect on her life, enough that she would name her first-born son after him.

Shortly after Hope's arrival in Central, he and the colonel had cleared the air with that discussion, confirming his assumptions and further securing his trust from the project's onset. Hope knew his speculation now was pointless. Whether or not Miles' past actions had initially been motivated by a lost love, he had still saved Serah's life at great risk, and he clearly held nothing but respect for Snow.

"I know what you're thinking," Miles said suddenly, a half-hearted smile on his face. "And I'm not ashamed to say that the similarity between Serah and my fiancée was part of the reason I helped her back then, but not in the way you may think. She just… _reminded_ me, of everything that had been good – everything that had been stolen away by powerful beings who didn't value a single, beautiful human life. I saw how her life mattered, and that I needed to make minecount."

The way he phrased it was enough to bring tears to Hope's eyes again. His mother's death would never lose its sting, though that suffering served as a unifying factor between himself and the tens of thousands now living on Pulse, even extending to the highest ranking person among them.

_Fang and Vanille had the right idea. Sacrifice is hard, but separation is worse._

The thought stirred up an urgency in Hope's chest, despite all previous anger, to get to Lightning as soon as possible. Whatever mess they'd made at the ceremony, that was insignificant compared to the idea of actually losing her, ever, in any sense. They could work with a little discord.

But there was no bringing back what was dead.

"Thank you, sir," Hope said sincerely, resting a hand on his superior's shoulder. "Sorry to run off like this, but there's something important I need to take care of."

The colonel rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Oh, go on," he muttered, shooing Hope away and shaking his head.

Hope trusted, deep down, that Miles would do everything in his power to protect their interests in the meeting, and that was truly all he could ask for. A dozen careful explanations to deliver to Lightning cycled through his head as he charged out of the enclosure and made his way back to housing.

_If she really knew how much the colonel's done for all of us – to a point, at least – she'd understand._

* * *

All cried out for the first time in years, Lightning looked at the digital display on the bedside clock through bleary eyes. The blinking time of 0000 reminded her instantly of the power outage that afternoon, and her mind scattered in a dozen equally unpleasant directions. She groaned into the pillow, dragging her arm across the covers to squint at her watch.

It read 2136, but the somewhat late hour wasn't a problem in and of itself. What bothered her now, aside from the obvious issue of her fight with Hope, was the hunger clawing at her empty stomach – the unfortunate product of a high metabolism and an inability to eat when anxious. Not surprisingly, she'd barely touched her dinner before the ceremony.

And she was far from willing to chance leaving the room. She had no clue where to search for food in the facility, and without an escort, she couldn't have gone even if she did know. Not that she felt in _any_ condition to call for the assistance of another living being at that moment.

Besides that, her throat felt like sandpaper. Thirst, unlike hunger, could not be denied. Shakily pushing herself into a sitting position, Lightning rubbed her eyes and switched on the bedside lamp, glancing around for a water bottle or mini-fridge that might contain one. She knew there would be tap water in the bathroom, but that was a last resort.

_If it tastes anything like it did at the hospital the last time I was here, I'd rather eat soap. I can't tell if it's the minerals or just bad filtration._

Lightning quickly discovered why she hadn't seen a mini-fridge. Leaving the bed in favor of wandering around the room, she ran into a sliding panel that didn't lead to a bathroom or closet at all. It partitioned off a whole kitchenette.

"Hmph, so much for my dilemma," she muttered to herself, methodically checking the cabinets. She only found pots and pans and other cooking implements in the cupboards, but the refrigerator proved a little more useful. Within, she did spot a pack of water bottles, along with one other item of interest. A tall bottle of what looked to be a dark wine stood centered on the top shelf, with a small piece of paper tucked beneath it.

Unfolding it, Lightning read the neat, obviously left-handed cursive with growing bewilderment.

_I hope you don't mind, but I saved this one from last spring's batch. Maybe it's a little late to be saying happy anniversary… At least the wine's got the right date!_

_- Miles_

While he'd left it unaddressed, it was clearly meant to be for both of them. She wondered if he'd had it sent up since they arrived, or if he'd placed it ahead of time – neither scenario was to her liking. If it was since, it meant someone with that sort of access, maybe even the colonel himself, had come through their room in a less-than-tidy state. But if it was beforehand, he knew exactly which room was theirs, and had intended it to be that room from the beginning.

Fighting the chill that thought brought on, Lightning grit her teeth together, clenching the note in her palm as she snatched the wine bottle and a single water from the fridge.

_All my suspicious nonsense is only making it harder on everyone,_ she thought wretchedly. _Hope, Serah, Snow… they all trust this guy. Maybe I've never trusted PSICOM leadership any farther than I could throw them into their closest scheming subordinates, but I suppose an exception is in order._

_Besides, the person he keeps closest seems to be Hope._

"Urgh," she growled, roughly digging through a drawer of utensils for the corkscrew to open the wine. "That's the problem, right there!"

The effort of searching bled off her precious energy supply. Once Lightning turned up the corkscrew, she merely set it aside with the crumpled note and slumped against the counter to drain her water in short gulps.

Sighing, she stared down the glass bottle and muttered, "Can't get much more pathetic than drinking wine alone."

_At least I won't care, soon enough._

Lightning had long since given up on expecting Hope to return to the room – considering the circumstances, it was an unrealistic expectation in the first place. She had, in the space of half an hour, questioned his superior, incensed the entire Settlement, and insulted his position. All of that, added on top of his usual routine of disappearing to process bad experiences, pointed to him spending the night in the transport.

Accepting her sad fate of wasting one of their precious few nights together, she uncorked the wine bottle and found the glasses hanging below one of the cupboards. She filled her glass and took that and the bottle back into the main room, deciding to wait out her vigil in front of the door.

One glass was easy enough – Lightning was grateful that the wine, made from whatever sort of native berries had been in season back then, was on the sweeter side. The second glass left her dwelling on its subtle bitterness, and she had slowly crossed the room to switch off the lamp so that Cocoon's glow through the window was the only light.

She'd raised that glass to Fang and Vanille.

"Ladies," she said gravely, "if I were you, I'd get out of here while you can. You deserve a long and happy life for saving ours." Obviously they wouldn't hear her, but she could imagine Fang's knowing smirk and Vanille's sad smile as they silently blocked out her request. In total contradiction to everything she believed, Lightning got the oddest feeling that they couldn't give up their duty just yet.

Three glasses later, she found herself staring longingly at the door handle again, and she was suddenly enraged with herself for locking it. She flipped the lock open, contemplating whether or not to poke her head into the hallway, but eventually deciding against it. Instead, she camped cross-legged on the floor, facing the handle, and started on her fourth glass.

There was no sense trying to sleep. A couple of different times, the phone rang on the bedside table, but Lightning was in no mood to have a discussion with her concerned sister. She couldn't fathom what idiotic things might come out of her mouth at that point.

Serah would just have to wait.

* * *

By the time Hope reached the lobby, he'd decided it would be best to try his options in sequence. He snatched the courtesy phone and dialed the extension to their room, his heart sinking after the third try with no attempt on the other end to answer. He wasn't sure if that was worse than being hung up on or not.

Either way, it left him no choice but to go to the room. Rather than pound on the door or call out for her to open it, though, he wanted to try something far less disruptive. He called the extension for Access Control.

"Access, Sergeant Elma speaking," the sentry said amicably.

"This is Director Estheim," Hope replied. "Sorry to bother you so late, but I've been locked out of my room in housing."

A few moments of silence passed as he heard her fingers hitting the keys on her console. "Sir, if I may ask," she said nervously, "Did you lose your keycard? I can see that you're calling from the lobby now, after you badged out of the central enclosure, but someone _else_ certainly used the keycard on your room over an hour ago. I wouldn't advise entering without having security check it out."

"Oh, don't worry," he laughed. "My wife has it."

The silence was broken by a muffled giggle on the other end of the line. "Understood, sir." She added surreptitiously, "You do know she's going to make you pay for this."

"I'm well aware, but thanks for the concern," Hope replied. "Could you delay about a minute for the release, just so I can make it to the room from here?"

"Certainly. Good luck, sir."

The line went dead, and Hope strode quickly down the corridors to room 4D. He kept his eye on his watch and his fingers on the door handle once he arrived, counting the seconds as they ticked away, until finally a loud click announced that it was open.

Gently pressing down and pushing the door ajar, he poked his head in to survey the dark room. He didn't see Lightning on the bed or anywhere in his line of sight, but several articles of her gear and clothing were scattered on the floor, barely illuminated by the light of Cocoon through the window. For a moment, he wondered if she might be in the shower.

That was before he heard her distinctly clear her throat.

"Tell me," she said, her voice dry but a bit unsteady, "Just how many creepers can break into this room? So far, I count two."

Hope stepped fully inside and closed the door, staring at Lightning in disbelief – she was sitting on the carpet in her skirt and tank top, one bra strap having slipped off her shoulder, with an empty wine glass in one hand and a three-fourths drunk bottle of wine raised toward him in the other.

_Great… I can't tell if this is an improvement or not. And what on Pulse is she talking about?_ He unconsciously pressed back against the door, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

Lightning shook the bottle emphatically. "A gift, from your good friend Miles."

Cocking his head to one side, Hope stepped gingerly toward her and took the bottle, inspecting the label. The year was marked "8AF," and his brow wrinkled in confusion as he tried to connect that limited information with Lightning's claim.

"How do you know it was from him?" he asked, carefully keeping his tone neutral.

"Oh, he left you a note. Go figure." She snatched the bottle from his grasp, chuckling bitterly as she made to refill her glass – which did _not_ look like a good plan. "You're both so cozy with notes and gifts and secrets."

Kneeling in front of her, Hope took over the task of pouring and stopped it at the halfway point. He righted the slipped strap on her shoulder, then lifted the bottle _and_ the glass easily from her fingers.

"So where's this note?" he inquired, sipping the wine experimentally before she could protest. He wanted to ask her to explain herself, but there was no point arguing about drunken babble.

Raking a hand through her tangled hair, Lightning tried getting to her feet. All she succeeded in doing was stumbling into the bed as soon as she stood, and she tried clumsily to make it look like she'd intended to sit on the edge all along. She forcibly straightened her shoulders and pointed toward the wall across the room… vaguely in the direction of the kitchenette, he assumed.

"I left it on the counter."

Nodding, Hope took the wine implements with him to the kitchenette, and sure enough, there was a crinkled slip of paper sitting beside the corkscrew. The left-handed cursive was beyond familiar, even if it hadn't been signed by the colonel.

"Hmph, 'happy anniversary'," he muttered to himself, the irony of it all a bit much to take. It wasn't worth dwelling on, anyway. He downed the glass he'd poured, corked the small amount of remaining wine, and put it away. Absently, he wondered how Lightning had managed to destroy herself with three-quarters of a bottle – it was either uncommonly strong, which he doubted based on the taste, or she was out of practice.

_And I find that hard to believe._

Returning to the room to sit beside her, he was surprised when she didn't flinch away. "Light," he asked tentatively, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, "do you wanna talk about this? I… I'd rather not be away from you right now."

"Tch, I doubt that," she said mockingly. "I wouldn't blame you. Figured you'd be staying at the transport or something."

Hope exhaled heavily. "I think I've done enough running away." He turned toward her, troubled at the sight. She'd given up on the proper posture and slouched again, hands forgotten in her lap, and her downcast eyes were puffy from crying. If there had been a speck of anger clinging to his heart, it was obliterated.

Not meeting his gaze, Lightning asked plainly, "Can we talk it out tomorrow? So I _won't_ come off sounding like an idiot?"

"Yeah," he replied, stifling a laugh. "We could_ both_ use a good night's sleep."

Lightning abruptly faced him with a curious expression, arcing one eyebrow skeptically, and he blinked at her in surprise. He'd never been able to anticipate whether she would become more or less animated on her rare occasions of drunkenness.

"Don't tell me your bedtime's _this_ early." She pinched his cheek and smirked wickedly at the disdainful glare he shot back. "So responsible. Gotta get up nice and chipper for the big Day of Celebration, is it?"

_Looks like it's one of her _excitable_ times._

"Yes, actually," Hope sighed, running a hand over his face while clinging to his patience with the constant reminder that Lightning was just drunk, and that she sometimes tended to tease him when that happened. "We all do, if you recall."

Shaking her head, Lightning just flopped back on the sheets with a laugh.

"Hmph, well fortunately for you and everyone else, I'm done for." A loud gurgling sound rumbled in the vicinity of her stomach, and she snorted. "Oh yes, definitely done for. Should be conveniently off your hands tomorrow."

Suddenly the entire situation made perfect sense. Hope smacked his palm to his forehead hard enough to leave a red mark.

_Didn't quite foresee the food issue coming up, since we were supposed to be staying together for the whole time here._

"Light…" he groaned, realising exactly what needed fixing, "you could've called information about food service hours. They'll be serving mid-rats before long, and there's always a salad bar open in the mess." He scooted across the bed and picked up a card beside the phone, waving it in her face with a grin and pulling it away before she could snatch it.

As he bounced to his feet, she rolled onto her stomach and grumbled, "Why bother at this point?" Grabbing a pillow, she buried her face in it.

"It can't hurt to get you some food," Hope insisted. He walked around and leaned over her, gently shaking her shoulder.

"May I have the room key, please?"

_At this rate, I really can't trust you to _not _lock me out._

"You'll have to find it first," Lightning said into the pillow, her bored voice muffled by the fluff.

Biting back the complaint he wanted to give, Hope sighed and squeezed his fingers around her shoulder. "You hid it in the room somewhere?"

"Maybe," she said, turning on her side to face him with a wry grin. "Or maybe I just misplaced it."

Unable to reason against her drunken antics, Hope hung his head as he sulkily proceeded to switch on the lamp and turn the room inside out, beginning with her trail of uniform articles and working his way into the adjacent bathroom and kitchenette. Having left no drawer unopened and no single item unturned, he eventually went back to plop down beside her on the mattress.

"Give up yet?" Lightning challenged, tugging on the back of his t-shirt.

Hope twisted around to face her, his eyes automatically travelling down to where her tank top had hiked up above the line of her miniskirt. It occurred to him that he'd missed a spot.

_A few spots, actually._

"Light," he practically purred, rolling her onto her back, "you wouldn't _misplace_ a keycard on your person, right?"

She arrested his hand and chuckled once. "You wouldn't search my person with gloves on, right?" she mocked.

"Forgive me." Grinning, Hope stripped off the gloves and wadded them in his pockets before he immediately jumped back to the task at hand. Even though he knew the most logical places to check would be the pockets of her skirt, he couldn't help tracing around her navel piercing with a light finger, then running it along the underside of her waistband.

"Why are you teasing me?" Lightning groaned, clumsily trying to undo the clasp on her skirt. "We both know what you want."

"Oh really?" Tempting as it was to take the bait, he took the opportunity instead to reach his left hand around to her back right pocket, feeling the expected edges of hard plastic tucked within. Hope slipped the keycard free and held it in front of her face, smiling triumphantly.

"You can be so predictable."

Brow furrowed in aggravation, Lightning grabbed onto the keycard and growled, "Take that _back_."

To Hope, the only thing more surprising than the strength behind her hold and the sudden, unrestrained fire in her eyes was how much those factors succeeded in deterring him. The resistance, which usually struck him as endearing, was downright exasperating.

"No way I'm taking it back," he refuted, fighting unsuccessfully to prise the plastic from her fingers. In the midst of the struggle their eyes locked, full of unresolved frustration over everything that had transpired in the past hours. There were things Hope wanted to get off his chest, and he soon felt no need to hold them in.

"Light, I won't – not unless you take back your little insult earlier," he insisted, grunting as he pulled against her grip again. When confusion edged in on her narrowed glare, he explained further, "You know, that I haven't really _earned_ my position? Unlike you, of course."

Eyes widening in shock, Lightning abruptly released her hold on the keycard, and Hope reeled backward to catch himself on his hands. He froze there, watching a tumult of emotions cross her expression and completely forgetting the item he'd finally secured.

Lightning had propped herself on her elbows, her eyes shaded by her bangs as she dropped her gaze to the covers.

"I—I didn't mean it," she muttered.

Sighing, Hope stretched out on his stomach beside her and rested his chin in his hands, following her eyes beyond the barrier of her hair until she finally glanced back at him. "I didn't think so. But I _would_ like to know what exactly made you say it."

"Tomorrow," she reiterated quietly, running one hand up the side of his head to catch under the bandanna and lift it off. "I can't really… sort this out right now."

He turned to kiss the inside of her arm when she pulled it back, half-smiling as he conceded, "Got it. No more talking." Pushing himself upright, he scooted toward the edge of the bed again and pocketed the keycard.

"_Wait_," Lightning blurted in the same instant that he felt another tug on the back of his shirt. "I-I'm not hungry. Would you just… stay?"

As if the uncertainty breaking her voice wasn't unsettling enough, Hope wasn't fully prepared to handle the vulnerability he faced upon turning – the shadows of doubt and loneliness in her eyes, or how her hands clenched wads of the sheets. He could count on one hand the number of times Lightning had let him read that deeply into her darkest insecurities, and three of those instances had also involved alcohol. For her to voluntarily put herself into such a state, there were some serious issues behind the scenes.

_Serah was right. We've got a _lot _to fix starting tomorrow, but I can set the stage now._

"I'm not going anywhere," Hope said easily, bending over to unlace his boots. "I was just taking these off."

* * *

**Endnote: Beta-roomie has seriously outdone herself. And I thought the Loreal comment was killer a couple of chapters back… Just wait until you read some of these gems :P (and there are a LOT).**

Right off the bat, as Lightning storms off to 'bed':** "and sleeping with her righteous indignation, surely. As opposed to her husband. :P"**

When Light remarks about her previous essential needs:** "ok whatever Conan the Barbarian."**

After Serah timidly apologises:** "…even though I'm right and you know it…"**

When Hope focuses on the need to escape:** "that's healthy :P"**

After he remarks that Fang and Vanille could've done worse than being crystallized together:** "I take it you're going with the 'lesbian lovers' interpretation :P"**

When Hope grumbles about being the understanding one:** "do you remember that time you tried to stab Snow out of an irrational ragey desire for revenge? Cos I do. Don't act like you're NOT prone to spastic rage fits, we all know you are."**

When he then wonders if he's all that different:** "Nope. See: the time you tried to kill Snow, when you were FOURTEEN, you PSYCHO." - Hthar: she isn't really hating on Hope, trust me.**

After he thinks about how it could've been worse:** "Given that it was Light? Yes X 1000."**

When he acknowledges that Light can't channel his thoughts:** [tiny comic of RANTY!SNOW!] "ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU TWO DON'T COMMUNICATE!"**

After Miles says he makes it his business to know where Hope is:** "oh awesome, you're bringing creepy stalking back into the mix. Does Miles have a GPS necklace from HIS dead mother to give Hope?"**

When Hope then remarks about wanting privacy:** "Can't be helped. How am I supposed to get my Youtube channel to 1,000,000 hits if I can't get constant footage of you doing menial tasks?...and screwing your wife, etc.?"**

At the mention of Access Control not tracking him:** "0.0 BUT THEY WILL FIND A WAY."**

After Miles brings up the possibility of disassociation from Light:** "Yeah, disassociate with your wife… what? WHAT? WE LIVE IN A FREE SOCIETY! Just get a quickie divorce!...for, uh, funsies."**

When Hope then disputes whether they are worried enough to take it that far:** "the same group of people who rallied around brutally murdering a group of people that included children and teenagers? …yes. Yes, they are."**

After Hope thinks about the connection between Miles' fiancee and Serah, and about naming Milo:** "8-( Ohhh. All the Miles feels~ *heart* it's cos the name Miles is super awesome, obvsly. AND it's not in the top 200, right? :P" - Hthar: she said that in reference to my baby names list, which did include Miles**

After Hope's thoughts about sacrifice and separation:** "oh right in the feels"**

Beside the note Light read from Miles:** "cute~ *heart* what a nice stalker"**

After Light is freaked out about the idea of Miles placing it in their room, and when:** "IN OTHER NEWS: Lightning is still super paranoid of EVERYONE. More at 11."**

After Light remarks how she can't get any more pathetic than drinking wine alone:** "Yes you can. Be grateful you still have your clothes on. ;P and at least it's QUALITY wine."**

As Light was progressing through glass after glass:** "does she not have any food to eat with it? Man, girl is gonna be feeling the wine something FIERCE in the morning! …dude how much wine did she drink? 5 glasses? With no food? Ohh, her hangover is gonna suck SO HARD. NOTE TO ALL COLLEGE AGE (and etc.) DRINKERS: don't do that! You will hate yourself the next day. TRUST ME." - Hthar: thanks, roomie. Spoilers for chapter 6 much? -_-**

When Hope is wondering if it's worse to be hung up on:** "it's not, don't worry. Your wife is just CRUNK levels of drunk. Go get her Taco Bell, stat."**

After Light asks Hope about how many creepers can break in**: "Light, you knew he was a creeper before you married him. Remember the GPS necklace? Cos I do."**

After Light's comment that the wine was a gift from Miles:** "that's what you'll be calling your vomit in the morning, too, I'm sure."**

When Light remarks about notes and gifts and secrets:** "hahaha omg, drunk, paranoid and jealous!Light is HILARIOUS. :D"**

After Hope determines he can't argue with her:** "GET HER FOOD, SHE'S PROBABLY ABOUT TO GET ALCOHOL POISONING FOR SERIOUS 0.0"**

When Light stumbles into the bed**: "lol, I love drunk!Light"**

After Hope thinks it's hard to believe she's out of practice drinking:** "oh depressing alcoholism."**

When Light suggests they talk it out tomorrow:** "given how bad your hangover is likely to be, I'd suggest waiting even longer."**

After Light wonders why food is worth bothering over at that point:** "BECAUSE YOU NEED SOMETHING TO SOAK UP THE ALCOHOL CURRENTLY TRYING TO DESTROY YOUR LIVER GOD LIGHT IS THIS YOUR FIRST TIME DRINKING SERIOUSLY GO EAT SOMETHING."**

As Hope is trying to insist about the food:** "get her some FOOD omfg RIGHT NOW. If you don't get her food I will think you are BOTH stupid and you don't have the excuse of being drunk, Hope."**

When Light says he has to find the keycard:** "omg she's turning into a child"**

After Hope thinks about missing a few spots:** "omg this sounds SO DIRTY wtf"**

When he teases her in searching:** "DIIIIIIRTY~~~you and your stupid pregnancy hormones wtf. :P" - Hthar: *ahem* fluff was requested, yes? Guys get distracted. *shrugs***

After Light suggests they both know what Hope wants:** "TO GET YOU FOOD. OR YOU'RE GOING TO VOMIT ON HIM. DURING SEX. DO YOU REALLY WANT THAT?...actually that'd be effing hilarious, do that :P"**

When Hope addresses the issue of her previous insult:** "OMG NO THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO HAVE THIS DISCUSSION HOPE, SERIOUSLY. Ugh…"**

Once Hope eventually decides to stay at her insistence:** "HORRIBLE DECISION HOW ARE YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR AN ENTIRE PROGRAM? I hope she punches you as she's vomiting tomorrow." - Hthar: As you all can see, beta-roomie has major issues with hangovers ^_^**


	6. Urban Grinds

**A/N: So, I apologise for the day-late post (based on using the extent of my 2 week update limit), but we had a couple of friends fly in last-minute and spent all of afternoon yesterday cleaning house :P Aaaanyway, that being said, beta-roomie had a fun time with this draft! One particular section should probably be entitled "Epic Fluff-Part 1" – a sentiment beta-roomie also shares. I hope to see lots of feedback from this chapter, since a number of important points were introduced! Thank you to everyone who has followed me and sent reviews ^_^**

**To the anons:**

**LawMan – He has learned over the years ;-) Glad that you've got some things to look forward to. You'll just have to wait and see how it plays out…**

**XienRue – You are absolutely right; this is NOT over yet. I seriously doubt any conflict just 'ends' with some convenient, all-encompassing solution :P**

**Guest – Thanks for joining us! I have many things in store for this fic, so I hope you do enjoy the ride.**

****Just one note for everyone. I borrowed yet another name from FFVI, but since he didn't have a first name AT ALL, I picked one for him :P**

[Songs for Chapter 6: "Where Are You" – Our Lady Peace; "When You Go Away" –The Weepies; "I'm Not Calling You a Liar" – Florence + the Machine; "Scenic Route" – Jars of Clay; "Speak Slow" – Tegan and Sara]

Urban Grinds

Hope knocked timidly on the door across the hall, unsure of what to expect after the previous day's events. A barrage of questions seemed inevitable, though.

_Please don't be mad._

When no one answered, he knocked again, this time hearing the soft shuffling sounds of someone moving within. Seconds later, the door opened to Serah's sleepy face, her eyebrows raising in surprise at the sight of him.

"Hope?" she asked hoarsely, rubbing her eyes. "You know it's not even_ five_ yet, right?"

He nodded sheepishly. "Believe me, I know. I only came over here to get some medicine for, um – for Light."

Serah blinked in sudden alertness as she asked, "What happened? What's wrong with her?"

"Well, there's nothing to be done for the vomiting," Hope explained as calmly as he could, trying to block out the way her eyes had turned to saucers, "but I knew you'd have something for headaches."

Propping the door with her foot, Serah crossed her arms and gave him a shrewd look.

"Is there something I should know? Because the virus has definitely been treated and vaccinated into nonexistence."

Hope sighed and ran his hands through his destroyed hair. "That Light doesn't do so well with ridiculous amounts of wine?"

"A hangover, huh," Serah remarked, still watching him with suspicion. "Where did she even _get _wine?"

"Listen, can I just come in? You can interrogate me all you want while you look for that medicine," he pleaded.

"Oh, okay." Opening the door wider for him, Serah stepped aside. Within, the room was shrouded in darkness, so Hope let her lead him into the kitchenette to turn on an under-cabinet light. She began rifling through a small, fully packed bag that must have been her travel medical kit, eventually turning up a bottle of extra strength painkiller.

Serah grabbed his hand and pressed the bottle into it. "Now. Explain."

Slumping to the floor to sit back against the cabinets, Hope absently rolled the bottle between his palms as he recounted the sequence of unfortunate events. For some reason, saying it all to Serah made it seem worse, and he struggled to keep his voice completely neutral.

_Not that she won't catch on anyway. She's already worried about Light._

"So," Serah said at length, handing him a mug of the coffee she'd put on to brew during his explanation, "Sis is transitioning from emotional shut-down to emotional breakdown. That's not exactly a _bad_ thing."

"Hmph, except for the part where she drank herself sick," Hope muttered.

Blowing her bangs out of her face, Serah huffed, "I'm not saying that's _good_, but for her to admit her issues in any way is still a step forward. I know it's really… messy right now, but there's no helping her when she won't open up. And we both know just how good she is at keeping everything to herself."

"Yeah," Hope quietly agreed, sipping the coffee. "Especially over comms. There wasn't one hint in all our conversations that clued me in to a problem – I saw it when I saw _her_, and even then I couldn't figure it all out. I still can't." Pausing, he focused away from her soul-searching gaze and exhaled a long breath.

"Sis, I really am trying. I just know I'm missing something important."

Serah hummed thoughtfully to herself for a moment. "Well, she got awfully ruffled when you didn't take her side last night. And I know Fang and Vanille's situation isn't something to take lightly, but the way she reacted made it seem less like righteous indignation and more like you'd personally hurt her."

Hope mulled that one over, his head feeling overfull while his chest felt empty, until he suddenly heard dragging footsteps in the silence. He and Serah snapped their heads toward the main room.

"Hate to barge in on you guys' little chat," Snow's gruff voice sounded from the kitchenette doorway, briefly cut off by a mighty yawn as he stepped into the light, "but I've got an idea what's wrong with Sis."

_Ugh, that man has the ears of a bat. He must've been listening this whole time._

"_You_ have an idea?" Hope asked incredulously. It was hard to imagine how Snow could have found a hole in Lightning's defenses to catch a glimpse at the heart of the matter, but the man had turned up surprising insights before. The thought of it slowly transformed Hope's disbelief into anticipation.

Rubbing his eyes, Snow cracked a sleepy smile. "Don't look so surprised. It's just the way she reacted to some things that were said over at Cavalry HQ. Kinda tipped me off."

Serah had crossed to where he stood, handing off a mug to him as she asked for both concerned parties, "What exactly happened?"

"Nothing that should've warranted her response," Snow said with a shrug. "One of the soldiers was talkin' about that crash with the zirnitra, and then she mentioned some of your own close calls, Hope. Sis looked pissed – not because she was mad about the incidents, but because it was the first she'd heard of 'em."

"And?" Hope asked, waiting on pins and needles for Snow to get to his point.

Unexpectedly, Snow narrowed his eyes at Hope over the rim of his mug. "_And_ it's obvious. You didn't _tell_ her that stuff. I don't know why, but I think things like that are fueling a bunch of suspicions in her mind – maybe about whether you're keeping secrets from her. Can't say I blame her, either."

_Secrets? She did say something about that._

An unspoken acknowledgement traveled between them, flying past Serah – the memory of how Hope had kept her secret from Snow, of how Snow had set the horrific record straight on his own, and of how they had both agreed to continue keeping it from Lightning.

"Yeah, well, I can't tell her everything," Hope muttered, averting his eyes to his coffee as he took a few more sips.

_Light's had more than her fair share of dealing with my weakness and trying to protect me. And it goes without saying that she can't know what happened to Serah. She'd _never_ trust anyone in PSICOM Central._

_She might never trust me again, either._

Snow snorted, far from amused. "That's exactly what_ she_ said. Somehow, I don't think it's a good enough excuse anymore."

"Snow, that isn't fair," Serah cut in quietly, shrinking back against the counter when both men stared her down. Clearing her throat, she met Hope's questioning gaze with a weak smile and pressed on. "I know you want to spare her the trouble of worrying about the struggles you're dealing with, but I also know you gave me a lot of crap when I did the same thing to you. It's always better to just come clean and handle things together."

Choking on the words that died in his throat, Hope shook his head in defeat. There was no arguing with her logic on that point. It had stood the test of time, and that realisation was enough to lift some of the weight off his mind.

_Maybe I can't tell her Serah's past, or any of the classified bits from work, but there's plenty to talk about anyway._

"You got me there, Sis." Hope knocked back the last of his coffee and pushed himself to his feet, depositing his mug in the sink. He gave Serah a warm, grateful hug and punched Snow in the arm on his way out, shaking the bottle of painkiller.

"I'm off to work on this marriage thing. Wish me luck."

"Got her drunk – I'd say that's a step forward," Hope heard Snow teasing as he left, his low, rumbling laughter followed by Serah's squeak of outrage.

"Don't talk about my sister like that!"

* * *

Lightning had spent the better part of an hour curled up on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet at intervals. Apparently out of everything but her own stomach to throw up, she had just leaned back against a towel draped over the tub's side when she finally heard the door open and close.

_Perfect timing,_ she thought blankly.

A minute later, Hope peeked into the dark bathroom warily.

"Medicine?" she croaked, not moving a muscle or daring to shift her eyes toward the wedge of light leaking in through the bathroom doorway.

He slipped into the space and knelt beside her, feeling her clammy face with the back of his warm hand. She heard the pop of a lid and the twist of a cap as he opened the medicine and a water bottle.

"Serah sent some painkiller, if you think you can keep it down."

In answer, Lightning raised her palm for him to dump two pills into it. She would only take two short gulps from the water placed in her other hand to wash them down, the lingering clench in her stomach telling her to take it slow.

"Keep your eyes closed," Hope said softly at her ear. Not having any good reason to do otherwise, Lightning obeyed. When she felt his arms slide behind her shoulders and beneath her knees to carefully lift her from the floor, she gasped, hearing him strain slightly against the weight but feeling far too drained to protest.

_Well, this whole day is turning out to be a new low for me._

Lightning noticed the shift in the light from behind her eyelids and winced; Hope apparently understood, because he turned off the lamp immediately after he'd placed her on the bed. Safe again from the harsh brightness, she finally cracked open her eyes to see him sit on the edge of the mattress, quietly observing her.

"Sorry about that. I didn't want to trip with you."

Even in near darkness, the way his eyebrows scrunched apologetically was clear.

_Is this just about the lamp, or something else?_

"Don't be sorry," Lightning mumbled, her hand finding his across the covers. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her temples, and she cursed the wine again. "I brought this on myself, stupidly enough. I should just sleep it off now."

Half-smiling at her, Hope leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Well, we don't want it to get worse. Think you could handle some oatmeal? Or toast, maybe?"

Lightning groaned miserably. It had never been her intention, when she decided to incapacitate herself the previous evening, to get anyone else involved in her own strange version of self-punishment. She foresaw the vomiting, the horrible headache, and the inability for her to function until the hangover had worn off, but the whole idea was that it would force her to remain shut up in her room where she _couldn't_ go out among the Settlement's populace or cause anyone – particularly not Hope – any more trouble.

But Hope was here. She'd woken him up bolting to the bathroom, and he had found her and tied her hair back with a rubber band. Had gone to get her medicine. Was going to get her food. And she knew him far too well to even consider that he would take no for an answer.

Sighing, she finally replied, "Whatever you bring back is fine. Juice was easiest to take the last time this happened."

"And when was that?" Hope stood to arrange the pillows around her as he asked, his face set in concentration on some new configuration he had in mind.

Surprising both of them, Lightning choked out a dry laugh when she remembered exactly when it was. Hope froze at the sound, one pillow still held aloft.

"Must've been our anniversary," she said, her voice quiet with regret.

"Really?" Hope nearly whispered, his task and the pillow forgotten as he plopped back down, shoulders sagging. "But… we were on the comms for _hours_ that night. You sounded so upbeat, too. I mean, I hated that I couldn't be there with you since the protesters were out in force, but I… I thought you understood."

Lightning sank back against the pillows, turning her face toward the window and squinting at Cocoon's glow. "Understanding _why_ doesn't fix everything. It means the difference between being angry and being sad about what went wrong. That's all. None of it was your fault, I just… missed you." Her voice had died out to a hoarse whisper, and her eyes burned within her pounding head, but she couldn't muster the strength to face him. Crying would only make things worse.

_And I hate crying. It's useless and selfish and weak._

She felt the mattress shift as Hope squeezed his body onto the narrow space between her and the edge of the bed. He didn't try to argue or add to her claims, which she had fully expected. Instead, he molded himself to her side, resting his face against her neck as he draped an arm lightly across her stomach.

They stayed that way for any number of minutes while Lightning aimlessly mused over what he might be thinking, blocking out the headache that still fought to survive, right up until she began to drift off. Sometime during her half-sleeping state, she felt the warmth leave her side and caught the last of his soft words.

"I'll be right back."

* * *

As quiet and empty as the city had been the previous day, it couldn't have been any more lively than it was for the Day of Celebration. Snow led the charge down the crowded street for their party, a sunhat-clad Milo back in his preferred spot on his shoulders – the best seat available, all things considered. Hope and Serah were close behind, followed by Sazh and Dajh, all of them simultaneously gawking and rushing along to stake out a decent viewing spot for the parade. It seemed that every variety of vendor stand in existence had popped up with the sun, only further contributing to everyone's difficulty in traversing the commercial district, but no one could complain.

The heavenly smells wafting from at least a dozen food stalls at any given time were compensation enough.

"C'mon, Dad," Dajh pleaded again, all but drooling over a rack of sizzling sausages at one nearby stand as he tugged on Sazh's sleeve. "Can't we just stop for half a sec to grab a snack? I'm gonna starve!"

"You just ate breakfast, son – you're not gonna starve." Sazh automatically pulled the reluctant teenager back from the stand, but seemed to think better of it as he halted their progress. He reached forward and planted a hand on Hope's shoulder, making him spin around.

"Listen, I'm gettin' this hollow leg his snack. If y'all wanna head on from here, we'll just meet up later, a'right?"

As Hope hesitated, weighing his options, the crowd pressed in and flowed around, much like a river encountering a large boulder. Snow turned to give Sazh a wave and settled the matter. "Guess we'll see ya, then!" he announced. "Can't let my family get trampled here, y'know."

Sazh saluted them off, and Hope turned last to stumble after Serah. She laughed and caught his arm, the action sending a sudden wave of guilt washing over him. An image of Lightning flashed through his mind, sleeping off her miserable condition in their room after she'd valiantly forced down the breakfast he'd brought her. He hadn't wanted to go without her, but she needed the rest. And even though he knew it wasn't by his design, it still felt like he was playing right along with the wishes of the leadership – caving to some need to preserve his reputation. As the colonel had confirmed that morning, said leaders weren't too keen on him spending time with her in public. It had felt almost traitorous to report to Miles that she wasn't likely to be in town until the afternoon, if at all.

Shrugging it off, he focused ahead again, trying to pick out the first in a string of floats beginning their procession down the main strip. Snow had finally managed to maneuver his way to a spot nearest the street, and he immediately shifted Serah to stand in front of him, jerking Hope around as well a moment later. Milo shrieked and laughed once Snow pointed to the first float – a mass representation of the three military branches leading the celebration, headed by a handful of mounted chocobos. Some of the soldiers from the Second Cavalry unit waved enthusiastically toward their always-conspicuous leader, and one female tossed candy right into Serah's hands in her apparent quest to shower that entire side of the street with confetti and sweets.

The second float to pass them by was representative of the Settlement's Public Council, an organization celebrating its two-year anniversary. Hope recognised several faces, some of which brought on an uncomfortable twist in his gut. There, on a ten by twenty foot moving platform, stood the primary force behind an increasing number of civilian protests over the past year, all smiling and waving along with their infamous head honcho.

_Edgar Banon._

For a split second, his skin crawled at the sudden feeling that the self-entitled snake had laid eyes on him. Hope shook himself to banish the sensation, thankful that the float was already moving beyond his line of sight. While he could appreciate the idea of giving voice to the people, his overall impression of the Council, and particularly of its spokesperson, had left a bad taste in his mouth. They seemed less focused on pleading their case and more intent on thwarting PSICOM's energy conservation initiative in every way possible. The swath of electric lights decorating their float was tantamount to that cause.

"Hope, what's wrong?" Serah asked, her eyes practically burning a hole in the side of his head until he faced the full package of concern in her features.

He shrugged and tried to reassure her with a smile. "What makes you think anything is wrong?"

"Oh, only that scowl-shudder combo thing you just did at nothing in particular." She crossed her arms, narrowing suspicious eyes at him.

"I-is that all," he stammered, laughing dryly. "Don't worry about it, Sis."

"Then don't act like you just smelled a rotting behemoth carcass."

Seemingly out of nowhere, Snow broke into boisterous laughter. "Aw, Serah – you know he'd lose his breakfast if it was _that _bad!"

She slapped her husband's stomach in false protest, ending up trapped in a half-hug against him. Momentarily feeling like an intruder on the couple, Hope turned his attention back to the passing procession, numerous businesses and organizations from the Settlement drifting by like living advertisements for progress, their confetti and candy continuously peppering the air. A part of him hated how the mere sight of the Public Council float, along with residual thoughts of his own failure at the mourning ceremony, cast a dark shadow over the otherwise jubilant atmosphere of the parade and everything it stood for. Still, he couldn't deny the truth behind the colorful display in the street.

_Without sucking all that power from Cocoon, would we even be here today?_

Should_ we be here?_

He knew the Guardian Corps stood firmly against the Settlement's growing dependency, and that PSICOM was stuck straddling the middle of the issue as it needed to appease the citizens _and _create new power sources to prevent disaster. That left the Public Council quite adamantly opposed to the Corps and frustrated by PSICOM's compromising restrictions. Their last round of demonstrations had set off an aggravating two-month strike of over half the farmers and ranchers on the eastern fields, convinced that they needed to make a point about the electrical barriers protecting their crops and herds. In the end, the strike turned out to be unsustainable for the families involved, and the lack of food production had only succeeded in making military staff and outpost troops everywhere survive on a rationed diet until things returned to normal.

Again, the point had been valid, but those methods struck Hope as nothing but wasteful. No amount of protesting about how they needed to maintain electricity in the fences was going to do anything for the fact that Cocoon's supply was dwindling, and it made things harder on everyone in the process. It wasn't like Colonel Sabin had authorized anything to be shut down – he'd simply lowered the available voltage to twenty-four hour operations like those fences and restricted usage times for all other sectors. Additionally, Cavalry forces were beefing up border protection.

"What do they expect?" Hope grumbled to himself, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "A miracle?"

A loud sigh sounded next to his ear. "Talking to yourself now?" Serah asked. The last of the floats had already passed by, and she latched onto his arm as masses of people began to brush past them, spreading into the now-open street. Something about the insistence in her grip made him wonder if claustrophobia was rearing its ugly head.

"Hey, Snow!" Hope called, whipping around to face him and signaling quickly at Serah with his eyes. "Let's get out of the sun for a little bit."

Nodding his understanding, Snow grabbed Serah's free hand and led them in a human train toward the nearest available awning. It wasn't until Hope took a good look around that he realised why the yellow and blue décor seemed so familiar – he finally spotted a sign identifying the establishment as _The Weeping Wyvern._

Serah followed his gaze to the sign and gasped.

"Wow. It sure has been a while."

"You know this tavern?" Snow asked, one eyebrow perched in amusement.

She gave a noncommittal wave of her hand, then pretended to search through her travel bag for something. "Mmhm, Lebreau used to work here."

That seemed to satisfy his curiosity, and Hope wasn't about to delve into the additional details she was clearly bent on avoiding. He also knew the sick feeling in his gut when he recalled that operation, compounded by the thought of Hana Rhem's connection to the location, was only going to intensify if he elaborated.

"Alrighty then, how about takin' a lunch break here, for old times' sake?" Snow offered, bouncing Milo on his shoulders. "Besides, this joint's got a pretty kickass name. I've always wanted to hit it up – just haven't had the chance."

Obviously indecisive, Serah opened and closed her mouth a couple of times without reply before Hope finally stepped in.

"That's a great idea," he said with a winning smile, urging Serah along as Snow proudly opened the door for her.

It occurred to them, shortly after taking seats at a corner booth, that finding Sazh and Dajh would be the proper thing to do first. Snack or no snack, it didn't seem right to leave them out of an impromptu lunch when their time together was running short.

"Man, I don't think he's got a comm unit on him," Snow muttered, snapping his useless communicator shut. "I'm just gonna have to catch those guys on the street. Shouldn't take too long." Standing to his feet, he hoisted a reaching, babbling Milo onto his shoulders again and strode for the door.

"Make sure and order those wings for me!" he called back.

Left in the large booth, Hope slouched into the cushy seat and stretched an arm out along its top, while Serah maintained her perfect posture opposite him, tracing one finger on the grain of the table.

A minute passed, and she refused to say anything or look up. Sighing, Hope leaned forward and waved a hand in her field of vision.

"Serah, it's perfectly okay to relax," he explained carefully. "You know none of the people from that mess years ago are gonna bother you anymore, right? Even if one of them randomly showed up here in broad daylight, they wouldn't recognise you."

"Yes, I know that," she mumbled, still not averting her gaze from the table until a very young waitress timidly approached with menus and a notepad. Her pale blonde pigtails drew both of their eyes immediately, and Hope felt the uncanny sensation of eating his words.

_No doubt about it. This girl was in Dajh's class – she even insisted on braiding my hair. She was the one who called me out at the crash that day, too. I remember the pink dress and pigtails, before everything fell apart…_

The sudden attention was enough to make her fumble with the menus, but she recovered and slipped them onto the table. "W-welcome to_ The Weeping Wyvern_," she forced out nervously. "May I take your drink orders?"

"Oh, just look at you, Gwen!" Serah gushed, a bright smile transforming her face in startling time. "Don't tell me you're fifteen already."

The girl fidgeted with her pen and pad, rosiness dusting her cheeks. "Not yet," she shyly admitted. "But Mom sort of runs this place, so she lets me help out when it gets really busy. She says I've got a good memory."

"I believe it," Hope remarked, trying to draw the girl out of her state of discomfort. "Can't say the same for mine. Sorry I didn't remember your name."

"Not as sorry as I am that you cut your hair off." Gwen had muttered the words so quietly that they almost didn't catch them, but it was so unexpected that Hope and Serah snorted in tandem – the former very grateful that he hadn't already gotten a drink to spray on anyone. Their chuckling quickly spread to Gwen as well, finally banishing her uneasiness.

"Great, that cinches it," Hope said in the end, all of them much more relaxed after the good laugh. "There's nothing I can do with my hair to make _everyone_ happy!"

Serah held up a hand and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to Gwen, "I'm totally on your side about this one."

Their giggles had Hope sulking down in his seat.

"I heard that, Sis. Beware the wrath of Yuj."

"Yeah yeah, that blue-haired drama queen doesn't scare me," Serah declared, laughing off the fake threat. "But that does remind me – I think I know what I'd like to drink."

"Oh, right!" Snapping back to work, Gwen brought her pen to the pad.

Chin resting in her propped up hand, Serah asked pleasantly, "You don't still make the blue raspberry Wild Card, do you?"

* * *

It was some time later when Lightning finally stopped feeling like a steaming pile of death. The last thing she remembered before falling into a heavy, dreamless sleep was her pre-dawn breakfast, as Hope refused to leave until she'd choked down a glass of juice, one piece of toast, and at least ten bites of oatmeal.

Rolling slowly onto her side, it occurred to her that she didn't have to squint toward the window. The shades were tightly drawn, making it impossible to know how late it was.

_Should I… maybe try to get ready? He seemed disappointed that I couldn't go out with them today._

Lightning still hadn't bothered to reset the time on the digital clock, so she checked her watch, jolting to alertness when she saw it was past eleven. The suddenness of her movement was dizzying and threatened to bring on another headache, but Hope had thankfully left the painkiller and another bottle of water on the nightstand.

Composing herself, she took the medicine and dragged her protesting body from the bed to the bathroom for a much-needed shower.

The entire operation of making herself presentable required much more effort than usual, no thanks to her sluggish movements and the piled-up state she'd left her civilian clothes in. Lightning wasted a ridiculous amount of time just searching for an iron that could not be found, and in the end she eliminated almost all of her clothes as unsuitable to wear in public due to wrinkles. The only complete outfit left was a pair of brown cargo shorts and an off-the-shoulder turquoise blouse that she felt certain belonged to her sister. Only Serah would bother with that sort of delicate fabric – it was far too thin to be practical. She opted to throw on a tank top underneath it for good measure.

Satisfied that the shorts at least matched her combat boots, she walked around the bed and picked up the phone. The number to Access was included on the directory assistance card, but there was one other extension she'd incidentally remembered from Hope's use of it.

And on the off-chance that Alyssa was available, she would have the access to let her see Fang and Vanille on the way out.

_Besides, the lab rat knows more about this place than anyone else. She might even know where Hope is now._

She dialed the three-digit extension, surprised when someone picked up after just one ring.

"Good morning! Alyssa Zaidelle speaking," chimed her bright voice. "Is this the Estheim of the Mr. or Mrs. variety?"

"U-um, Mrs., I guess," Lightning stammered, quickly recovering to explain, "Probably should've mentioned that I kept the name Farron."

"Oh, right." There was a brief but awkward pause before she rallied and laughed, commenting off-handedly, "I should've known the director was still out in town, anyway. What can I do for you, Sergeant?"

Lightning cleared her throat, carefully thinking through her words. "Like you said, Hope and the others are all out in town. I need an escort, but I wanted to know if you could possibly take me by the enclosure to say a few words to Fang and Vanille first. I didn't get the chance yesterday."

A quiet sigh was audible over the phone before she explained, "I'm sorry, but emergency restrictions have been placed on the enclosure, effective today. I-I mean, if I had the authority, I'd love to make an exception for you, but I really can't. I can still escort you out of the facility if you'd like, though – I was about to head out of here myself."

_That restriction… It's my fault, isn't it?_

"Um, sure," Lightning replied, feeling silly for thinking she could even hope to get close to Fang and Vanille after the mourning ceremony incident. "Since I've already taken up your time."

"Hey, it's no trouble at all! I'll see you in the lobby in ten."

It turned out that when Alyssa said ten minutes, she meant just that. Lightning had the strangest feeling she could've timed it to the second with a stopwatch.

"Now _that's_ a cute outfit," Alyssa commented immediately, studying the military boots with only a fleeting twitch of disapproval in her expression. "Decide to be festive today?"

Lightning brought a hand to her hip, explaining in all seriousness, "I had no choice – couldn't find the iron."

Giggling briefly over her stoic response, it took Alyssa a moment to compose herself while she led the way out of the lobby. They were headed down the glass walkway when she continued the conversation.

"Just for future reference, we keep steamers in the guest rooms instead of irons. Though I honestly think this worked in your favor today – if I had those legs, I'd wear shorts all the time!"

"You _are_ wearing shorts," Lightning replied skeptically, mentally kicking herself for getting pulled into such a trivial discussion. There were much more worthwhile things she could be asking about on the long walk ahead.

Alyssa just shrugged. "Hey, it gets pretty hot around this time of day. I hope you're wearing sunscreen."

Once they stepped out of the east gate into the blazing sun, Lightning felt the nagging urge to slap herself. Details like skin protection were more Serah's department, but she would've remembered it herself on a day with less needless distraction.

Apparently taking Lightning's silence as a hesitant no, which was the honest truth, Alyssa dug around in the bag slung over her shoulder and handed off a small can of spray. Something about the gesture felt like a peace offering.

"Thanks," Lightning muttered as she quickly covered her arms, legs and neck in a thin layer of the mist. They walked along silently for a while, Alyssa busily messing with some feature on her communicator as Lightning tried to think of a good way to start into the important questions she wanted to ask. What finally settled it was the fountain, towering over the clusters of people gathered around it but looking far less intimidating in broad daylight. The sight of it reminded Lightning of her impulsive words the previous night.

"Alyssa," she began, causing the girl to snap her head up instantly, "Am I the reason the enclosure is restricted?"

Averting her eyes into the crowd, it was a long few moments before Alyssa quietly admitted, "Yes, I think so. But… you really shouldn't feel bad about it. If you ask me, these people are a little too quick about moving on and forgetting what they left behind, ritual or no ritual." Her standard smile had shifted to a pensive frown as she rounded out her thoughts.

"And the truth is, we _need_ to find a way to communicate through that crystal – if anyone knows what's going wrong, it's your friends on the inside."

"Is that even possible?" Lightning asked plainly. "I thought the entire reason for Hope's project was preventing some inevitable catastrophe."

Alyssa shook her head, gradually slowing their pace as she seemed weighed down by her thoughts. "Inevitable is a strong word. We still don't know enough about Cocoon's state to say it's definitely going to collapse, but we have to assume the worst. I'm personally placing my bets that the research expedition coming up will yield some excellent data."

"Research _expedition_? Where else would you go to study Cocoon besides right here?" Lightning's brow furrowed in puzzlement, her usual logic unable to place a scenario where anyone would find relevant data in some other location.

"Oh, no no, it's not like that," Alyssa laughed, clasping her hands behind her back. "We're calling it an expedition because it'll be kind of like exploring foreign territory after everything that's changed – everything inside Cocoon, you know."

Lightning stopped in her tracks, the loud, happy sounds of people chattering around them dying out to nothing. She couldn't believe the question making its way from her mind to her mouth.

"Wait, so—this will be the first time anyone's gone back _into_ the shell?"

"Absolutely," Alyssa replied, her eyes betraying no hint of hesitation or surprise. "You didn't think they'd let people fly in there when it might come down on them, did you? This trip was only approved with the stipulation that we go inside immediately after the next major outage – I mean, the shortest amount of time we've seen between those was about four months. Back to back _days_ of power outages would be practically impossible."

Unsure whether to feel hopeful or concerned, Lightning crossed her arms over her chest. "So you fly in there and do… what, exactly?"

"Oh, you'll wanna ask Hope on the details – either him or Maqui. I'm just along for the ride. My big role is always analyzing the data afterward," she explained, suddenly jumping in place at something she saw on her communicator display.

"Score! Got a lock on him!"

"What are you—?" Lightning began, but Alyssa was already plowing ahead, the communicator stretched out in front of her like a divining rod as she wove erratically through the street crowd. Giving her somewhat fuzzy head a quick shake, Lightning rushed forward to keep up.

It wasn't until they'd stopped in the shade of a distinctive yellow awning that Lightning got the chance to make sense of what had happened.

"We're here!" Alyssa announced, holding her communicator up so Lightning could view the screen. A bright green dot blinked rapidly in the upper left corner, the number counter beside it sitting at 008 METERS. "Since I don't see Hope anywhere on the street, he's probably inside this tavern."

"Something tells me he wouldn't appreciate you tracking him like this," Lightning remarked, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

Alyssa just laughed as she snapped her communicator shut. "Hey, he knows good and well that everyone on the project team has this capability in case of emergencies, so if he really wanted to be off the grid he could've just shut his communicator down. Besides, this is for a good cause, right?"

Rather than pull Lightning by the arm, which she had instinctively reached out to do before she thought better of it, Alyssa skipped to the door and opened it wide instead, motioning for her to enter.

Lightning hadn't made it two steps past the threshold when she spied the chattering collection of her family, along with Maqui and a few other people she didn't recognise. The one face that seemed to be missing was Hope's.

"Alyssa, are you sure that tracker is accurate?" Lightning asked quietly once the other girl had joined her inside. "I don't see him anywhere."

Shrugging, Alyssa offered, "Maybe he went to the restroom. I mean, we found everyone else, so let's ask them."

Their approach to the boisterous table was greeted with wide-eyed astonishment, followed by a sudden burst of laughter from Snow. "Wow, Sis – got yourself an escort all the way out here? Impressive finagling, even for you!"

Lightning glared him into the booth, but Alyssa just laughed it off. "No finagling necessary, actually. I was already headed out, so it was just lucky timing."

"Okay, okay," Snow conceded. "But if you're lookin' for Hope, he's kinda stuck in the ceiling right now." The explanation was followed by a chorus of snickers.

"He's… what?" Lightning fought the urge to look above them, asking instead, "Is that some kind of figure of speech?" She refused to believe that things might have gone from bad to weird since the already rough start to her day.

From beside Snow, who was snorting and smothering his laughter, Serah giggled. "No, he really is halfway in the ceiling – over there, above the bar." She pointed toward the back of the tavern, where Lightning finally spotted the gray coveralls seemingly hanging out of a ceiling panel. It was clear that he had to be standing on a ladder or stool, but she couldn't see that part past the bar counter.

_Do I want to know why?_

Without another word, Lightning strode toward the bar to investigate the situation herself. The brunette bartender wiping down the counter greeted her approach with a knowing smirk.

"Don't tell me – this one's yours," she said flippantly, gesturing at the lower half of Hope visible beneath the ceiling panel.

Lightning narrowed her gaze at the woman. "Maybe. What makes you think so?"

"Oh, that's easy," she continued, taking a moment to set out a drink menu in case Lightning was interested. "He offered to fix my busted lights. The only guys who ever _actually_ lend a hand around here have a nasty habit of being gorgeous but taken." Smirking again, she shook her head.

"That and you're obviously on a mission, miss."

Raising one eyebrow, Lightning said simply, "Nice deduction. Mind if I come around the bar?"

"Sure, it's pretty slow for drinks around lunch anyway." The woman opened a little half-door at the far right end of the bar for her, and Lightning quickly made time getting around and over to where Hope was standing on the stool. Worried that her voice might startle him, she opted to tug on his pantleg to get his attention.

"Just a sec," came his muffled voice from the ceiling. "I've almost got it… there!" With a short pop and a flicker, the three out of five unlit lights over the bar suddenly came to life. His task seemingly complete, Hope ducked out of the ceiling panel and replaced it, shaking a little cloud of dust out of his hair as he jumped off the stool.

"Those were on a separate circuit anyway," he explained casually to the bartender, only then noticing and starting at the apparent materialization of Lightning just to his right. He smiled a bit sheepishly at her but quickly encircled her in a hug.

"Glad to see you're out and about!" Hope sounded every bit as relieved as the words suggested, and Lightning felt a sense of gratification at making the effort. A small needle of foreboding still prodded her when she remembered her explicit request to hash out their issues 'tomorrow,' and her list of questions was growing, but in the moment she could bask under his sunny mood.

They went to join their party for the rest of a comfortable lunch, and it was over half an hour later when the group began to break up. It seemed Snow had big plans to take Sazh, Dajh, and Milo over to the chocobo pen, and Maqui had decided to join them. Apart from that, Alyssa had volunteered to accompany Serah to visit Ann at the hospital, and the other acquaintances from the Settlement were heading back to their own families for the rest of the day. But the girl with the platinum blonde pigtails, which Serah had introduced as Gwen and Lightning recognised from the previous evening, took advantage of everyone's chaotic dispersion to sidle up to her and tap her shoulder.

"Excuse me, Miss Lightning?" she asked, obviously nervous and trying to remain unnoticed.

"Something wrong?" Lightning watched her with a critical eye, unable to gauge the source of her discomfort. The girl shook her head, producing a small, folded piece of paper from her pocket and signaling for Lightning to step away from the booth for a moment. The others were still standing around to say their goodbyes anyway, too distracted to cast a glance their way.

"Could you give this to Hope for me?" Gwen asked in a whisper. "I-If I had known I'd be seeing you here, I would've written a note for you, too. So… you can read his, if you want." With that, she pressed the paper into Lightning's hand and scurried off through the tavern, disappearing into a back room.

_Personal notes? What on Pulse for?_

Slipping the note into her pocket and taking her seat at the almost empty booth, Lightning only had a moment to puzzle over the girl's strange gesture before Hope pulled her back to reality.

"So… would you like to wander around for a while, or did you have something specific in mind?" he asked, the eagerness in his smiling face taking her by surprise. It was a long moment before she stumbled upon the meaning behind that look.

Here they were, alone in an out-of-the-ordinary location with the option to leisurely visit the sights. Before, they had never been in a situation that fit the standard definition of a 'date' like that. Not once in their almost four collective years of dating, engagement, and marriage.

In fact, when Lightning really thought about it, she had never been on an actual date in her life. She hadn't the first clue how such a thing was supposed to play out. It was only by pure coincidence that she'd dressed for the part.

Hope seemed to take her continuing silence as a signal, and he cleared his throat. "Well, I know I'm kind of a mess now. Maybe I should go—"

"_No_," Lightning cut in abruptly, the suddenness of it making him snap his mouth shut. She shook her head and composed herself, adding much more genially, "Sorry, I just don't care if you're a mess. You know that. What's… normal to do around here, anyway?"

"Normal?" Hope looked truly perplexed, but he perked up after a few moments of thought, tilting his head at her with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. "I don't know about normal, but there's something pretty fun we can try."

That statement was wide open, and Lightning quirked an eyebrow at him suspiciously. "Something in town, or something in a secure space?"

"In town, of course!" Hope laughed. "I _never_ get to take out my beautiful wife." Snatching her hand, he pulled her along until they'd left the tavern and waded into the street full of people.

* * *

_Nothing could make me hide you away, either. My reputation will manage._

As they meandered hand-in-hand through the commercial district, it crossed Hope's mind several times that Lightning might simply turn down his idea as ridiculous, but somehow that just wasn't enough motivation to derail him.

Because the payoff, if it worked out, was too good to miss.

"So, when exactly did you plan on telling me what this _fun_ thing is that we're doing?" Lightning asked, lightly bumping against his hip to emphasize her point.

Hope bumped her back, sticking his tongue out at her. "When we get there, Miss Impatient. Why should I tell you early and spoil it? There are only so many surprises left in life, you know."

"I'm not too sure about that." She smirked, but something about the way she said it indicated a desire to say more – it flashed through her eyes for a fraction of a second and was gone.

And even if he'd wanted to delve further into that, it was too late. They had arrived at the front of the business establishment he'd aimed for – _Rollin' Pulse _was the last building on the commercial district's main street, and for a good reason. It was entirely surrounded by every kind of manually-operated, wheeled means of transportation in existence.

"You want to ride bikes?" Lightning asked, her voice completely flat. She blew out a long breath. "Well, you were right – I am surprised."

Hope dragged her along again, laughing at her obvious judgment of the activity as either dull or childish. "Oh, who said anything about riding bikes?"

"What, we're trying the unicycles instead?" she quipped. Her expression was so forcibly blank that he had to keep from laughing in her face.

"Nope." Wide smile straining his cheeks, Hope spun her around to face the particular contraption he had in mind. "I thought it might be nice to go tandem."

"So you _do_ want to ride bikes," Lightning remarked stubbornly, tweaking the little red flag that stuck up from the back of the two-seater bicycle with her finger.

"_A_ bike!" he corrected. Hope hugged her from behind and laughed, releasing her with a gesture for her to stay put. "I'm just going to rent this, so you can take a minute to think about where you'd like to go, okay?"

Lightning shrugged. "Whatever you say."

_Score! At least she didn't outright refuse. Probably just glad to be out of the street, and I can't say I blame her for that._

Hope took care of the simple rental fee and returned a couple of minutes later with a printed paper. "Just sign this liability form, and we're good to go!" he said enthusiastically, handing off a pen.

After she'd stared at the page for a whole minute without making a move, Hope leaned over her shoulder and asked, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Snapping out of her concentration, Lightning shot him a serious look. "A lot of fine print. I don't sign anything I haven't read, that's all." He laughed lightly and shook his head, but she just motioned for him to turn around so she could use his back to scrawl her signature on the line.

"And you call _me_ overly responsible," he remarked, taking his own turn to sign it against her back.

She twisted her head around and eyed him skeptically. "When do I ever say that?"

"All the time," he laughed. "You were even picking on me for going to bed early last night."

Lightning just shrugged it off, seemingly unable to recall that exact event, so he let the conversation go and rushed back to the front desk to turn in the form. Returning immediately, his smile still permanently in place, he propped his hands on his hips and asked her, "So, you want front or back?"

Surprisingly, Lightning snorted once and blinked away from his face, fighting a grin.

"Oh, come on," Hope dragged out, rolling his eyes.

"The idiot's rubbing off on me, wonder of wonders," she muttered. "But seriously, I think you should choose. I don't know the way to any sites of interest here."

Hope cocked his head to one side and explained happily, "That doesn't make any difference. You're just choosing between letting me guide you from the front or the back – if you want to ride in front, I can tell you which way to go, so it really is up to you."

Fingers on her chin as she thought, Lightning finally came to a decision. "Front, then. We can switch it up on the way back."

"Done!" The two of them got hold of the tandem bicycle and hauled it out of its rack, rolling it along to the edge of the street. Hope wondered if Lightning felt as comfortable as he did gripping the familiar handles; it wasn't too hard for him to imagine a time when she would've ridden a bicycle along the beach paths of her hometown just like he'd done on the sidewalks of Palumpolum. The very thought of it made him feel light.

"Doesn't look like many people are biking today," Lightning commented offhandedly, mounting up on the front seat. She tested its height and dismounted immediately, loosening and adjusting it to a lower position with practiced ease. The action secured Hope's picturesque mental image of a younger, carefree Lightning peddling around in Bodhum, and he smiled.

A long, wistful moment later, he blinked and saw Lightning eyeing him shrewdly over her shoulder, one hand perched on her hip.

"Would you rather keep staring at me, or are you gonna get on?"

"O-oh, right," he laughed, quickly adjusting his own seat and mounting it. "We're heading south, by the way."

"Got it." Lightning automatically spun the pedals around to start on her right foot, and Hope followed her cues to push off together. They were a bit wobbly at first, but as they picked up speed the balance came naturally, so much so that Hope started to accelerate too quickly in the exhilaration he'd missed about biking into the wind – whether manually or on velocycles.

Lightning locked her pedals into a coast – simultaneously locking his own – and called back at him, "Hope, slow down! This isn't a race."

"Sorry," he said immediately, deciding to let her set the pace and keeping an eye out for landmarks like a good tour guide. As they entered the outskirts of the residential district, he tapped her shoulder and pointed to several older buildings off to their left.

"Light, see that gray five-storey with the big number 5 over the entrance? That's the shelter we lived in," he explained. "It's a primary school now. Dajh's old teacher runs it, actually."

"Where did everyone move to, then?" Lightning had called the question over her shoulder, but her eyes were back on the road ahead.

"You'll see in a minute," Hope replied.

The sun was streaming down on them, dancing off Lightning's pale pink hair as it whipped out behind her, and Hope honestly thought he'd never felt so content. He could've stayed in that happy place forever, in a constant state of synchronized motion without a worry in the world except keeping on the path, but the stinging sensation on the back of his neck reminded him of the discomfort a sunburn would bring. Instructing her to make a quick left, he guided them down a winding route between the new townhouses of the district, those shadier lanes a reprieve from the heat.

"This is where everyone lives, now," he explained, occasionally waving back when they passed friendly neighborhood kids playing in the small yards. The simple, pastel-colored homes were all standard models of only one or two-storey floorplans, and as pleasant as they were, they never struck Hope as the sort of home he would prefer to be living in – not now, or at any point in the future.

"Kind of cookie-cutter, don't you think?" Lightning pointed out.

Hope chuckled, not terribly surprised that she felt the same way. "A little too _normal_ for my taste. I bet the plumbing never gets backed up, though."

They shared a laugh over that one, Lightning picking up the pace as they headed toward the farthest southern point of the Settlement.

"Light, let's pull over here for a minute," he instructed. They were still in the midst of the pastel neighborhood when they stopped at the crest of a hill, its vantage point perfect for what Hope wanted to show her. He pointed toward the wide open expanse of a simple garden before them, the grass broken up only by scattered saplings and slightly larger, young trees. "Do you see that cluster of boulders? Right in the middle of the flower beds?"

Lightning nodded, asking immediately, "Why are they important?"

"There are four of them," he said softly. "The community built this park around the place where we landed."

"Oh." A moment of silence stretched on between them, its end unknowable. Hope didn't want to disturb Lightning's deep contemplation, not on her first time seeing the site, and it was clear in her utter stillness and the way her eyebrows scrunched that a good deal was going through her mind. Finally, in one smooth motion, she completely dismounted from the bike.

"Let's get a closer look."

"Oh-okay, sure," Hope agreed, dismounting as well and helping her walk the bike down the hill to the park. They leaned it against a nearby bench and slowly approached the boulders, small placards coming into view up close, each with a name based on the original position of the corresponding l'Cie. Lightning read them all carefully, stopping in front of the smaller one bearing his name.

She traced her fingers over the rough stone surface. "You didn't let me go. Not even at the very last second."

"What?" Hope whispered incredulously, still hovering at her shoulder. "I don't understand."

Lightning placed her other hand on the stone that was hers and explained in a quiet but unwavering voice, "When we were falling… the only reason we didn't end up stuck together was that your hand crystallized first, and I lost my grip on it. I just hadn't thought about that in a long time."

"I… I don't remember," Hope got out. He automatically clasped her fingers in his, the thought of them being forced apart so indelibly, _ever_ again, crushing in its weight. He felt a momentary flutter of panic over just the prospect of tomorrow, when she would be flying away across the plains of Gran Pulse. When his entire family would leave. And as many times as he had made the journey himself, navigating those hundreds of miles to return to the Settlement after yet another visit, this departure was somehow different.

_Don't go. Please._

There was no way he could voice that sentiment. It was completely unfair and an impossible request for her to meet. The decision that separated them had been his to make – it was his _fault_ in the first place, so he had no right to ask anything of her.

During his internal struggle, Lightning continued to stare at the array of stones as if she might divine some great secret from them, though what she expected to find was unclear. Hope watched her with equivalent intensity, keen on getting into her head.

_Maybe this time, she'll let me. I have to try._

"Light," he said hesitantly, and she lifted her eyes, the vestiges of everything he didn't yet know making choppy waves on a blue sea. "What's on your mind?"

Sighing, Lightning slipped her hand free and sat at the base of her boulder. "This is going to take a while," she muttered, the simple words enough to draw him down to her level.

"We've got time." They were silent for a minute or two, settled against their respective stone markers as she seemed to sort through her thoughts, and Hope watched a distant cluster of darkening storm clouds drift a bit nearer from the northeast. Eventually, Lightning cleared the air with a startlingly direct statement.

"I'll tell you what's on my mind – all the things you _haven't_ been telling me."

* * *

**Endnote: Dun dun dunnnnn. And now, beta-roomie will blast you with a ridiculous amount of editing comments!**

**Seriously, on page one: "ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: BETA'D"**

**While Hope explains what happened with Light to Serah: "is this his way of getting back at Light for the night before? Just gabbing with Serah instead of bringing Light the medicine? ;-P"**

**When Snow says he has an idea what's wrong with Light: "Liver poisoning? :-)"**

**When Snow nails Hope with his explanation: [tiny comic of ranting Snow] "COMMUNICATION! OMG!"**

**After Serah explains that Hope was upset at her for doing the same thing to him: "Moral of this story: Serah is always right -_-"**

**When Hope thinks about Serah's advice standing the test of time: "yeah speaking of the test of time… remember your poor suffering wife?"**

**IMMEDIATELY upon spotting Hope's name in the description of their group walking out on the town at the beginning of the switch to his POV (before beta-roomie got to the part where he explains that he DID take Light some breakfast before he left): "you are a lying liar who lies! 'Be right back' my butt"**

**When Sazh caved to Dajh's begging: "yeah, you show that decisive parenting ;P"**

**After Hope thinks about the name of the awful Public Council leader: "oh hey, look, it's the douchebag character I encouraged you to write. Aww *heart*"**

**When Hope is worried that Serah might be getting claustrophobic: "Yes omg parades are the worst! D:"**

**After Gwen's comment about Hope cutting off his hair: "FANGIRL FANGIRLIN'"**

**When Hope then says he can't make everyone happy: "grow a mustache YOU'LL BE MANLY according to stereotypes. Of perverts. :P"**

**After Lightning wakes up and takes more medicine: "ugh omg SO MUCH SYMPATHY for you Light, hangovers are the worst. :-("**

**As Light thinks about how Alyssa might help her find Hope: "ha, I love it when Light gets strategic"**

**Right after that, when she explains how she kept her name: "good call, WAY easier to spell and pronounce"**

**When Light explains that she wore the festive outfit because she couldn't find the iron: "Obviously, Light is only festive when no other options present themselves."**

**After Alyssa compliments her: "annnd now Alyssa is crushing on both of them. I think you could make the Hope/Light/Alyssa OT3 work. Dare ya. Hthar (in my head): CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. Good. GOOOOD. EXCELLENT. :P" Hthar – she explained to me that she WAS kidding, and don't worry, I would die first -_-**

**Once Alyssa mentions the need for sunscreen: "WARRIORS HAVE NO NEED OF THIS 'SUNSCREEN'. THEY LAUGH AT CANCER-CAUSING UV RAYS."**

**When Snow remarks that Lightning 'finagled' her way into getting an escort: "omg see? Snow ships it too! OT3 starts here! XP"**

**After the bartender explains that she knew Hope had to be taken: "or gay. Might as well hit all the stereotypical 'woe is us girls' talking points ;P"**

**[one of three of my personal favorite editing remarks] When Hope proclaims that he NEVER gets to take out his wife: "Hope's inner monologue consists of him dancing the mambo around a giant banner that says 'Suck on this, Miles!' doesn't it?"**

**[Stand by for massive innuendo commentary] After Hope thinks the payoff is too good to miss: "seeeeeeex~ and other things maybe, but mostly sex."**

**[second favorite comment, period] When Hope corrects Light that it is a single bike: "OMG HOPE YOU ARE SUCH A DOOOORK~ also, wow, he's not dancing the mambo, but riding a two-seater? Down the main street? Is he going to also create a TV ad consisting solely of himself giving Miles the finger? To the tune of 'Blow Me'? (song by Pink)"**

**[third favorite comment] At the mention of signing liability forms: "oh lord if anyone would manage to make riding a bike into something liable, these two would."**

**From the point of when Hope asks front or back until they actually get the bike down: "LOL…still sounds like a sex joke, lol. Omg still a sex joke XP"**

**When Hope thinks about Light riding around in Bodhum: "this is so homey and cute I kind of want to vomit. :P"**

**After Light asks if he's going to keep staring: "yep, most of this dialogue can be easily translated into pornography. JUST SO YOU KNOW. :-)" Hthar – good to know ;-P**

**When she asks Hope to slow down, and remarks that it isn't a race: "'…and if it was, I'd win and you know it.' seriously, sex scene. HILARIOUS."**

**When Hope decides to let her set the pace: "always a good call, I've heard."**

**After they head into the shade: "Shade doesn't block UV rays, Hope, THEY WILL FIND YOU. YOUR PALE SKIN DOESN'T STAND A CHANCE."**

**When Hope thinks to himself that he doesn't want Light to go, but he can't say it: "Poor baby Hope :-("**

**At the VERY end of the whole draft: "…also I'm still mildly convinced they're talking about sex. :P"**


	7. The Good

**A/N: Argh, I am sorry this chapter is AGAIN a day late and a dollar short, but maybe you'll all forgive me? *begs* As usual, I would love to hear feedback, especially since it will help me to more accurately tweak chapter 8, which is in the process of being edited to death :D Not really much to say leading into THIS chapter though, as it speaks for itself, so enjoy (**and please read the first anon review response, because that WAS NOT a real reviewer**)!**

**To the anons:**

****Gustafon – Husband of mine, I am going to KILL you if you don't stop posting anon reviews under random aliases! You could at least READ the chapter if you're going to leave a bogus review *growls* And yeah, I know you're gonna read this. So stand by to stand by.**

**Terra7 – Hey there! Thanks for the encouragement and advice, though I'll let you be the judge of whether I managed to handle this mess with care…**

**ChainzOfThePast – Welcome to the party! Sorry if the two week update schedule seems a bit of a wait, but it's the best I can manage right now, particularly since the holiday season is upon us. Thanks for dropping a note!**

**LawMan – Oh good lord, I busted a gut right in the middle of a conversation with beta-roomie thanks to your little comment there XDD TRUST me, I don't want that kind of drama going on for my poor pairing, hehehehe. They have enough on their plates! Hope will get a sandwich eventually…**

[Songs for Chapter 7: "Find Our Way" – Our Lady Peace; "Waiting On the Light to Change" – Matthew Perryman Jones; "Take My Hand" – Dido ; "Engines" – Snow Patrol; "Come On" – Tegan and Sara; "Closer" – Travis; "The Girl" – City and Colour]

The Good (the Bad)

Lightning waited, watching him carefully for the anticipated defensive retort to her accusation. As it stood, though, Hope's expression had merely drooped in that sad, almost regretful way that a child would adopt after breaking a toy.

_So, you did see this coming._

"Okay," Hope breathed, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He continued to stare at the northeastern sky as he quietly asked, "Could you… maybe tell me what you've heard that's bugging you, so I can get an idea of where I messed up?"

Her own eyes tracked to the same direction as his – to a cluster of storm clouds not far off in the distance. "Hmph. For starters, I didn't know you'd had a bunch of close calls flying the transport, _or_ that another ship crashed recently," she said sardonically, her hands balling into fists around the grass as frustration roared in her chest again. "I felt like a complete fool interrogating those Cavalry soldiers, making them _defend_ the adamantoise training – something that could have been avoided if you'd let me know the whole story. Even_ Snow_ assumed I knew!"

Hope flinched at first, but he rallied to snap back, "Snow isn't exactly a model in keeping sensitive information to himself. That crash wasn't reported to the general public yet because the site's still under investigation, and we _know_ the families of the victims would've been targeted by the Public Council once they got wind of it."

"That doesn't excuse you not telling me the _unclassified_ parts," Lightning added, whipping around to face him. When he met her gaze, she saw that the fire had begun to build behind his eyes again. She could tell he wanted to interject, but she plowed ahead. "And that gives me another fun fact that I knew nothing about. What_ is_ the Public Council, and why on Pulse would they be targeting victims?"

Heaving a deep breath, Hope threaded his fingers into his hair and pressed his forehead to his knees. "I didn't want to get into this," he said through gritted teeth. "Those people are the bane of my existence." Hope suddenly sat up straight, alert to the presence of a couple walking a stroller down the path winding through the park. Once he caught sight of them, he seemed to relax, but Lightning's suspicions about their current subject grew tenfold.

"You didn't seem this jumpy in those crowds," she muttered, more to herself than him, but he replied anyway.

"It's easier to blend in with crowds, and much harder to be overheard. In a place like this, I feel kind of exposed." Hope's voice dropped to a murmur as he further explained, "It's not that I don't love my privacy, but the longer I'm here, the more I realise I've had a false sense of it. There are only a couple of places I can even really be alone."

"Alone in what sense, exactly?" The storm clouds were drawing dangerously near as she asked, casting a shadow over the bright townhouses directly across from the park, but she didn't dare move until she could hear his answer.

Hope jerked his head up again, seeing the same impending torrent, and hurriedly clarified, "Alone in the sense that no one's watching or listening, waiting for me to slip up so they can use it against the organization I represent." Standing abruptly to his feet, he extended a hand to her.

"C'mon. Let's take this somewhere safe, alright?"

Nodding, Lightning took his hand, her frustration shoved aside as she joined the effort to get back on track. They retrieved the tandem bicycle from its park bench and steered a course westward, Hope taking the front to expedite their retreat from the storm. The sounds of thunder and rain hitting tiled roofs met their ears right before they pushed off, and it soon became clear that the clouds were advancing more quickly than expected. Lightning felt the first pelting of cool water on her back not ten minutes later, just as they exited the residential district. The shower soaked through her thin blouse and tank top in seconds, rapidly bleeding into her shorts and undergarments, but she had to admit it was a refreshing break from the summer heat.

"Is this pretty standard weather here?" she called ahead of her to Hope, swiping the wet bangs from her eyes. She could feel him picking up the pace, her own pedals rotating faster until her legs began to burn, and they were starting to splash through puddles as the shower progressed to a downpour.

He shook his head and yelled back, "Not really – we've been needing a good rain for weeks!"

Blowing by all around them, buildings obscured by the haze of water could have been any manner of things, but Lightning easily guessed the point at which they entered the warehouse district. The long, weather-beaten structures in their neatly arranged rows were a dead giveaway, even though she had only been in the area a couple of times. Hope took a few turns through the warehouses along his route, and Lightning was relieved when the transport came into view at the very edge of Guardian Corps territory.

They slipped and wobbled to a stop at the base of the side entrance ladder, where Hope launched off his seat and shot up the steps, calling down to her, "Roll the bike around back! I'm gonna lower the ramp!"

Squelching through the mud and thankful for her boots, Lightning pushed her way to the rear of the ship. The ramp was already hitting the ground when she arrived, and Hope charged down to help her haul the bicycle under cover of the cargo bay.

Once the task was complete and they were safely shut inside, they both sagged against the port side interior wall of the transport, still breathing hard and dripping little puddles onto the deck. They were such a ridiculous sight that Lightning couldn't fight an amused smirk. Hope turned and automatically mirrored her smile, recovering enough to shake his flattened pewter hair out like a wet dog, but Lightning was quick to give him a shove for showering her again. As she wrung out her own hair, he pulled the communicator from his pocket and smacked it against his other palm, laughing when the display merely flickered and died.

"Well, I've got myself a project," he remarked. "Would you believe it isn't the first time I've broken this thing?"

Not missing a beat, Lightning wagged her head and replied, "Of course it isn't." While she watched him tinker with the device for a minute, it occurred to her that she also had potentially damaged goods in her pocket. She gently worked free the piece of paper Gwen had given her, cringing at its sogginess between her fingers, and unfolded it. Despite being soaked through, the ink thankfully hadn't bled enough to be unreadable.

"Hope," she asked, prodding his shoulder, "Do you have any kind of heater in here, maybe a heated fan?"

He jolted to attention, blinking as the words finally seemed to register. "Um… there's no heated fan unit, not without powering on the ship, but the engines stay pretty warm in the summer. Why, are you cold?"

"No." She waved the piece of paper briefly in his face, but didn't go into detail. "I had a letter in my pocket, and I need to dry it out."

"Oh. Let's go down there, then." Hope grabbed a solar lamp from beside one of his rucksacks and led the way into the belly of the ship.

The engine room, adjacent to the mechanical space, lived up to Hope's description. Lightning couldn't believe the change in temperature from the last few times they had been below deck, when it was chilly enough to need blankets; back then, Hope had explained that the intake for the engines caused a rapid loss of warmth in the winter, but so much machinery and wiring simply collected and produced too much heat to drive it out in the summer.

Finding a relatively flat spot on one engine's casing, Lightning smoothed the paper out against the warm surface.

"You know," Hope said, combing his fingers through his damp hair as a pensive expression overtook his face, "We could dry our clothes out down here, too."

Snorting, Lightning remarked, "You're such an opportunist."

"Hey, it's a good idea!" he defended, gesturing emphatically at both of them. "Unless you'd rather run around sopping wet for the rest of the day."

She leveled him with a flat stare, arms crossed. "You really think we're going to finish that serious discussion stark naked in an engine room?"

"Not when you put it like _that_!" he laughed, the sound dying out to more of a whine as he ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "And to be completely honest, nowI'm having a really hard time not thinking about… well, _you_, naked. Would it help my case if I said you could bribe pretty much anything out of me?"

_Oh the times when it really hits me that you're a man… Well, it can't be helped. You're not the only one who missed out on some fun last night._

"So, you think we should get this out of our systems first," she offered.

Despite her completely uninflected tone, Hope seemed to shy away from admitting to that claim, averting his eyes and stammering instead, "O-oh, well, I wouldn't put it that way exactly… I mean, we could just—maybe run back out in the rain to chat? That's also distracting…"

"No, that's just needlessly complicated," Lightning surmised, calmly peeling off her waterlogged turquoise blouse and wringing it out. She slapped it onto the engine to dry and started on her boots.

"And now you're stripping," Hope muttered, shaking his head as he approached. He rested light hands on her shoulders and locked his eyes onto hers. "Please tell me you're not after some kind of _angry_ sex with this."

Straightening up, she caught him completely off-guard with a soft kiss. "What, you're turning me down, now? I'm not angry, I'm being practical. Did I not just say _we_ should get this out of _our_ systems?"

"I-I guess that's fair—" Hope tried, cut off at the pass by another, longer kiss that apparently reduced him to total compliance. Seemingly unable to break the contact for more than necessary snatches of time to breathe, he slid his hands down her contours to eventually rest them on the small of her back. Lightning had already worked her fingers under his t-shirt, peeling it free from the stickiness of sweat and rain on his skin, and she expertly unknotted his coveralls at the waist before pulling him back against her. From there, the entire operation dissolved into a whirlwind of kicked off boots and rapidly tossed clothing, some of which may not have hit the target of the engines.

The two of them, however, did hit the engines – a preferable surface to the mud-spattered floor, even if that did mean staying upright. Being pressed between his fluid body heat and an equally warm piece of machinery was the sort of experience that Lightning could not find words to describe. She merely decided, then and there, that the widely-known claims about makeup sex were justified, and it honestly had nothing to do with their performance being any sweeter or more creative than usual. It was an unspoken need to feel surrounded by and connected to the person who had seemed so distant.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lightning hazily acknowledged that the simple act could not solve everything, but the way Hope handled her, whole-heartedly and openly, was a tangible reminder of the feelings she had begun to question. When he kissed her, she was taken back to so many other kisses that always whispered or screamed how much he loved her. When he guided her or relinquished control, she felt the sense of trust they shared. And if those things were real, she knew there was a good explanation for his recent communication fumbles; if she asked, Hope would respond.

On the heels of that thought, Lightning felt the undeniable shift into high gear and automatically tightened her hold around his neck and waist, her lips finding his again and refusing to leave for a wonderful, agonizing stretch of seconds.

Abruptly, all of the tension between them released.

* * *

"We should do that more often," Hope said at length, his voice the first sound to interrupt their breathing and the softly surrounding noise of rain on the ship's hull. The moment those words escaped, though, it occurred to him that Lightning might have taken them the wrong way.

She still had not looked up from her resting place against his shoulder, her initial response a heavy sigh. "That's a nice sentiment," she muttered, her dry sarcasm subtle but clearly present. "Since we have so many options."

"I'm sorry. I should just stop talking while I'm ahead," Hope said dejectedly, his remark immediately earning him a pinch to the stomach from Lightning.

"Oh no you don't. I still have a lot of questions to ask, and I _will _get answers."

"See? Bribery at its finest," Hope teased, covering his head defensively as the sudden fierceness of her expression suggested an attack. But when she didn't follow through, he added a bit more boldly, "I hope you don't always get your targets into this vulnerable of a position."

"Hope…" The growl behind her voice carried a very real threat, banishing his mischievous antics in an instant. He coughed once and smiled shakily.

"Right. This is serious, I know. Why don't I run up and get us a couple of towels while you think of that first question?"

Lightning stared at him in disbelief, her gaze briefly flitting over to his drying boxers, down to his t-shirt they were sitting on, then back to his uninterrupted skin. "I've already assessed that this ship is one of your 'safe places,' but… you're going up there without clothes?"

"As if it's a big deal," Hope replied with a shrug. "The only other person with keys to this thing is Maqui, and I doubt he'll be coming over in that storm anyway. Besides, it's not like he's never seen me before."

Her eyebrows just about shot up into her hairline. "Alright, I have my first question. What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Hope rolled his eyes and laughed as he got to his feet, explaining simply, "Community showers, Light, remember? I told you I lived in barracks off and on plenty of times. So did Maqui – he was even my bunkmate for a little while."

"Right." Having no need for further discussion, Hope picked his way through the darkened spaces by the diminishing light of the solar lantern he'd left beside Lightning – he knew the ship by heart anyway.

Upon climbing out of the mechanical space, his ears were assaulted with the sound of rain pelting the hull, much louder in the main cabin than it had been below deck. Thanks to the emergency lighting, it was easy to get at the rest of his supplies in the storage room, and he dug up two unused towels and quickly headed back to the panel.

That was when another sound caught his attention – the almost undetectable clank of keys hitting the metal floor.

"Holy mother of Etro!" Maqui exclaimed, slapping a hand over his eyes instantaneously. His other hand continued to clench the handle of a dripping umbrella. "I'm afraid to ask, but what the hell are you doing? And by that I mean why are you here _and _why are you naked?"

Hope shook himself from the surprise, huffing in disbelief when Maqui didn't move a muscle and wrapping one of the towels around his waist. "Okay, I'm covered."

Dropping his hand, Maqui glared suspiciously as he gathered his keys from the floor and asked again, "Now, explain yourself."

"Look, we were biking across town when the storm hit," Hope began, gesturing dismissively to the tandem bicycle parked in the cargo bay, "so we decided to come here and wait it out. Then we decided to dry our clothes in the engine room and… yeah. That's what happened."

Grumbling to himself, Maqui tossed the umbrella aside, stomped into the cockpit and returned with something wadded in his hand. He then crossed to the mechanical space opening, draped the item in question over the corner of the raised panel, and backed away. Hope immediately recognised it as his own hated blue tie.

"Wow, good call," he remarked, chuckling. "Think I may keep that thing, now."

Maqui crossed his arms, still in a huff. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up lover boy. As long as you insist on marking this ship as your sovereign territory, I expect thorough use of disinfectant, mopping, scrubbing, or whatever the hell is necessary to ensure that I _never_ find evidence. And you know I have plenty of resources available to make sure you suffer if I do."

"I get it, don't worry," Hope promised, the smirk that had been growing on his face taking up permanent residence. He briefly returned to the storage room to grab cleaning spray and paper towels before heading back to the mechanical space. On his way down the rungs, he suddenly thought of something and called up to Maqui, "By the way, why are _you_ here?"

Maqui sighed, explaining tiredly, "I left my communicator. Sometimes Lucil calls around this time of day, on her lunch break, so… yeah."

"Now isn't that sweet," Hope remarked, his voice coated with sugar. As he climbed into the depths, he called up as an afterthought, "You've got no room to judge me, buddy."

"Hey, I'm not screwing her in the transport!" came the indignant rebuttal.

Hope laughed. "Oh, I'll be sure to back off graciously when that day comes!"

That ended the discussion, and Hope heard the sound of fading footsteps as Maqui quickly distanced himself from the mechanical space. Once Hope had wound his way through to the engine room, his eyes met the sight of Lightning in full defense mode – she sat perched on the end of the nearest engine, arms and legs crossed, watching him with an unwavering gaze.

"I see Maqui is a little less blasé about the naked thing than you implied," she said plainly.

Still grinning, Hope tossed the other towel toward her, and she had to scramble out of her pose to snatch it from the air. "Maqui says hi," he said, "or he would've if he wasn't so busy being the least blasé person on the planet."

"Guess that explains the supplies." Lightning wrapped the towel around herself, taking the spray cleaner from his hand. "Common courtesy, anyway."

"He should know by now that I wouldn't be a dick about this," Hope muttered. "I'm prone to clutter, not _dirty_, and I've already gotta mop this whole ship for all the mud."

Pausing in her motions of gathering some of their clothes from the floor, Lightning suddenly straightened. "Then why don't we make a deal?"

"What sort of deal?" Hope asked warily.

She tossed the spray back to him and posited, "If you answer every one of my questions, _one-hundred_ percent, while you clean up, I'll mop the ship myself. But if I sense hesitation, or even the slightest hint that you're hiding something, you're on your own. Deal?" For extra measure, she stuck out her hand. The abruptly professional gesture would have made him laugh had his nerves not kicked in at the proposal.

"That sounds reasonable," Hope replied, praying that the sudden rush of anxiety he felt wasn't obvious in his voice, or in his hand when they shook on the agreement.

_Surely she won't ask anything about Serah. I can't let the topic go that way._

"So, your last big question was about the Public Council," he offered, misting the first engine's casing with a layer of spray and going to work with a paper towel. "Did you wanna start there?"

Scoping out a mud-less, dry spot and settling down, Lightning nodded. "Tell me all about this 'bane of your existence'."

"Well, it's an organization that was formed two years ago, after Colonel Sabin's second public forum," Hope recounted, kneeling down and rubbing methodical circles on the metal to keep himself calm. "In the first forum, the citizens were calling for a non-military representative body, so PSICOM set it up for nominations to be submitted at the next forum. They held a Settlement-wide election for all the positions after a few months of sporadic campaigning, and that was that. The only person you really need to know about, though, is their chairman."

He paused, facing Lightning for a moment to make sure she got a complete understanding of his feelings on the matter. "His name is Edgar Banon, and I hope you never have the misfortune of crossing his path."

"I'm not worried," Lightning replied evenly, raising an eyebrow. "If he ever tries to give me a hard time, I can think of a few ways to make him regret that decision."

Eyes widening, Hope shook his head emphatically. "Oh no, you're missing my meaning. He's the type of person to act polite in a public setting, then sneak around and hit you with derogatory comments that turn any nice, normal observers into your enemies. And if you fought back, his flock of supporters would make it worse."

"So he's done this to you before?" she asked.

"Not yet," Hope breathed, going back to his cleaning with renewed intensity. "I've had a close call, but Miles saved my ass that time – set the record straight right to the bastard's face. He's been pretty insistent that I stay off the radar of the Public Council ever since. So far, it's been a tough balance between avoiding bad interactions while still making enough appearances in public to not seem suspicious. After all, they can talk about me all they want, but if they never corner me into giving them material to fuel their accusations, no one will really believe them for long."

A tentative touch to his shoulder stopped Hope cold, and he turned to see Lightning on her knees right beside him, the concern in her eyes having edged out the initial defensiveness. "What are they saying about you?"

Hope ran a hand through his hair and let it drop uselessly to his lap. Keeping his voice just loud enough to be heard over the rain, he admitted, "They like to… question my position. They say I'm some kind of rogue agent that shouldn't be trusted because of my past, as if PSICOM's gone from persecuting l'Cie to kowtowing to them, or something ridiculous. And they mainly do this to make people doubt the colonel's leadership, since he's the one who brought me here and the one giving me orders. It's-it's so insulting, that they would _dare_—"

"You're not upset because they talk about _you_ then, are you?" The way she phrased the question was more like a statement, her tone completely neutral, and Hope waited for her to finish the thought. "You're upset because they're insulting the colonel."

Hope nodded once, wadding up the abused paper towel in favor of a new one as he swallowed down the lump of frustration in his throat. "I don't get it," he groaned, dragging his supplies along as he scooted farther down the engine. "Why are these people so hell-bent on fighting the one person who's been doing everything in his power for _years _to make sure they can live peaceful, comfortable lives?"

"Because most people are selfish and ungrateful," Lightning stated, unblinking. "The sad truth is they usually need a terrible experience to make them appreciate what they had, and it doesn't take them long to forget once it's over. I've never had any delusions about the cycle of tragedy in life myself, but most people do."

Hope stilled his hands at those words. He looked at her again, seeing for the first time in ages the evidence of that damaged but hardened woman he'd met as a boy – the soldier whose eyes were icy shields to her heart. She hadn't spoken much about her own personal tragedies then, except to teach him a lesson, and even years later it wasn't a topic she touched upon. He had never seen her mourn the losses of her parents, only knowing the days of their deaths himself because of Serah, and neither of them dared mention it to Lightning when she refused to acknowledge the significance.

Over time, Hope had come to believe that it hurt her too much to dwell on the subject, but now a new idea occurred to him because of what she said – that Lightning did not mourn those things she wished to never let go of, in order to avoid the complacency she detested in the average person. Her parents, through whatever precious memories she carried, had to be frozen in her mind the way Fang and Vanille were still frozen in the pillar. Her logic suggested that she might trap it all inside, never quite moving on, and in so doing prepare herself for the next inevitable tragedy.

_But that isn't fair. She's _allowed_ to let go and be happy. That's what I'm supposed to be doing for her!_

_Clearly, I need to get my head back in the game._

"Light," he said, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Please tell me you're not just _waiting_ for something terrible to happen."

She grabbed his wrist tightly as if to shove him away, but stopped instead and asked bitterly, "Isn't that what you're doing?"

"In a sense," Hope admitted, fighting a battle to remain honest while not agreeing with her dismal outlook. "But at the same time, I'm searching for a way to avoid it. There's still so much we don't know – I can't just call it a lost cause, not until we've tried every possible solution."

_And I'll explore every inch of Cocoon from every angle until it's found. _

Sighing in resignation, Lightning relinquished her hold on him in favor of clenching her hands around the bottom edge of her towel. "You always were stubborn."

Laughing suddenly, Hope replied, "I may have picked up this tenacity from a certain soldier. And I'm going to owe her for eternity."

"Is that so?" Lightning asked, a wry grin curling her lips as Hope's eyes grew in nervous anticipation of her intentions. "In that case, I'd like to call in a favor."

"Which is…?" Squirming to readjust his position on the floor, Hope tried and failed to appear preoccupied with his cleaning task again, but she was clearly not fooled.

Lightning shifted closer, leaning into his arm to whisper warmly in his ear, "I want to join your expedition."

"W-what?" Hope stammered, utterly blindsided. "How did you—?"

"Know about it? Well that's simple. I heard it from someone else," she explained matter-of-factly. "Don't bother asking me who. What's important is that I know you're flying a team into Cocoon to explore something there, and I want in."

Collecting his jaw, Hope tried again, "But… you don't even know what we're doing in there!"

"That's why you're going to tell me," Lightning said glibly, resting her chin on his shoulder so that her breath and wispy bits of her hair tickled his neck.

Hope refused to be baited, and he carefully extricated himself from her direct influence to sit with his back against the engine, raising his hands in defense. "Light, I'm sorry, but there's also the issue of you being banned from the enclosure – it goes without saying the _interior_ of Cocoon is even more off-limits. I don't know if I could get you cleared in time for the expedition, if at all."

Lightning ran a hasty hand through her hair and huffed, "Well can you at least try? I can explain the situation to Nooj and get permission on my end, maybe even as an official emissary from the Corps to oversee the operation. There are always methods to justify butting in. But you've got to promise me to make the effort on your end, too."

"Why are you so set on this?" Hope asked carefully, his uncertain green eyes searching hers.

Still fighting for the cause, she held his gaze and closed her fingers around his hands. "Look, I never wanted to get involved with the messy politics in this place, but coming here and seeing it for myself reminded me that Fang and Vanille are still stuck at the mercy of these people. And now, so are you. Can you just… find a way to let me contribute? I need to see the situation with my own eyes, and I owe Fang and Vanille just as much as anyone else. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course I do." Hope squeezed back against her hands and offered quietly, "I can talk to Miles about it, I just don't want you to get your hopes up. He isn't the one who wanted to ban you in the first place, but he has to respect the rest of the leadership on these decisions."

Lightning nodded once in clear understanding. "Would it help if I spoke with him, or even the lower leadership, myself?"

"Well… it might clear up some confusion," Hope stammered honestly, surprised she would even offer. "But you shouldn't feel obligated to do that – when you said those things about Fang and Vanille, you didn't know the effect it would have, so it's sort of _my_ fault for not speaking up first."

"It still caused a lot of needless trouble. At the rate things are going, I'd rather remedy the situation and do something useful," she insisted, not once betraying hesitation or lingering guilt as her eyes read him for some apparent cue – whether it was his approval or the go ahead to say more, he didn't know, so he just smiled. Lightning blinked in obvious confusion at his sudden change in demeanor.

"What are you smiling about?"

Hope shrugged, his grin lifting crookedly. "I guess I'm happy to see you this interested in what I've been working on. All this time, I really thought you didn't want to be bothered with crazy Settlement problems. You've never liked this place, and you said so yourself – it's complicated and stressful. But I do _want_ to share it with you."

"Guess that's settled, then," Lightning muttered, tucking the bangs in her eyes back behind her ear and pinning Hope to the engine with her intense blue gaze. "I _do_ want to know the gory details about your life here – no matter how boring or stressful or dangerous you think it is. So can we agree to not keep any secrets from now on?"

Hope felt a line of sweat break out at his hairline, but he managed to calmly request, "You mean with the exception of classified information, right?" While he couldn't prove it, he felt confident that such a condition might encompass the forbidden account of Serah's detainment and rescue – it stood to reason that details of the incident with the errant doctor, the method of his death, and Miles' unsanctioned interference and collaboration with the GC during that time would be kept safely locked away. For all he knew, the record was already destroyed.

_I should ask Snow if he remembers the classification on that file._

"I think that goes without saying," Lightning said at length, and Hope felt his muscles relax as he let out the air he'd been holding. Her eyes narrowed briefly as she studied him, but she seemed to dismiss his subsequent relief as a sign that he'd only been concerned about the protocol.

Certain he was in the clear and unwilling to press his luck, Hope got back to his knees and finished wiping down the engine as he teasingly asked her, "So, did I pass your test? This ship's not mopping itself, you know…"

Her indignant growl and accompanying _smack _to his backside answered him. "Smartass. I should mop the floor with _you_."

"You just want an excuse to punish me," Hope quipped, tripping over a burst of his own laughter as he tried to explain, "But if you mopped the floor with-with _me_, I'd get muddy and gross, and then you'd have to clean me up." He brought a hand to his chin and looked up thoughtfully. "Hm… now that I think of it, I kinda like this plan."

"I'd just throw you out in the rain," Lightning snapped back. She shoved him against the engine, her eyes alight with mischief again. "You could use another shower anyway. It's a win-win, if you ask me."

_I'd certainly call _this_ a win-win._ He could feel his blood thrumming faster, not remotely caring that further escalation between them would render his cleaning efforts worthless.

"Uh, Hope?" Maqui's nervous voice rang into the engine room from the adjacent mechanical space, freezing them both within centimeters of each other's faces. A couple of deep breaths later, Hope cleared his throat and spoke up, the irritation he could see in Lightning's eyes reflected in his tone.

"Maq, something had better be on fire! And in this downpour, I doubt it."

"Well _that's_ thoughtful," Maqui shot back. "I guess a call from your boss doesn't merit interruption."

The image of his busted communicator cut cleanly through the fog in Hope's mind, and he was able to piece the situation together. "He's on your comm unit now?"

"Yeah, so I'd put it on pause for a few minutes, if I were you."

"Got it," Hope called back regretfully. Gently detaching Lightning's hands from his shoulders, he gave her an apologetic look. "Duty calls, I guess. It must be something important if he's gone and tracked me down like this."

"Yeah, it must be." She didn't sound terribly convinced, but there was nothing to be done for it. Lightning was already getting to her feet, helping him up in the process, and she actually led the charge toward the exit with the solar lamp in hand. Once they reached the mechanical space, Maqui had already climbed back up.

"I'll just use the regular mop," Lightning remarked to Hope at the base of the rungs. "Consider yourself lucky."

"Oh, I know I am."

_I really hope this is worth testing her patience._

After they emerged from the mechanical space opening, Lightning made a beeline for the storage room as Maqui hastily passed off his communicator to Hope like it might explode otherwise.

"This is Hope," he said, trying to sound normal to the point that he came off a bit flat.

The breath of relief on the other end crackled over the line. "Oh good. I thought I might have to send a search party."

"Sir, did you think I'd drowned?" Hope scoffed. "It isn't that bad out there, and for the record, I _can_ swim."

"Is that how you broke your communicator? Swimming?"

Hope rubbed his finger and thumb between his eyes, answering tiredly, "No, but it did get waterlogged. I'll have it fixed by tomorrow."

"I'm afraid that's of less concern at the moment," Miles replied, no trace of the smile that had been apparent in his voice before. "For now, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like first?"

"The bad news," Hope immediately replied, catching the perplexed look Lightning sent his way as she passed by with a mop. She paused, seemingly unwilling to proceed until more was discussed, but Hope shook his head and mouthed the words "Don't worry about it" toward her. Her eyes said that she wouldn't obey him even as she started down the rungs into the mechanical space again.

"Alright," the colonel continued. "Unfortunately, the storm got to our fireworks rigging for the celebratory display tonight, so everything is drenched. We can't possibly get enough together in time to redo it. I know it sounds trivial, but the leadership is concerned that the Council will think this is just a convenient excuse to cancel a large gathering event after last night. What are your thoughts?"

After pacing a bit, Hope had to pinch the communicator between his ear and shoulder for a moment to re-twist his towel in place.

_Ugh, this is awkward. What can I possibly offer?_

"Sir, I'm no expert, but I think the Council would find something wrong to protest about whether the fireworks went on or not," Hope said simply. "If you can't do it, you can't do it. Maybe make an official announcement in the square once the storm blows over, just so people aren't left in the dark, and postpone the display for a few days. I think they'll be happier to see it late than not at all."

Miles chuckled briefly. "I like your plan. It's much more useful than all the bickering I just endured over schemes to defuse hypothetical protests, believe me. I thought I was going to lose my mind!"

"Sir, I'm sure you could've drawn this conclusion on your own," Hope deadpanned.

"Well yes, you just outlined to me exactly what I would've liked to do," the colonel admitted without hesitation, "but I prefer a second opinion to validate. Besides, if I didn't give you the opportunity to think of solutions to these things, you'd never get any practice! That's just shoddy training."

Hope sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. "Oh trust me, I feel trained enough. Now if your bad news wasn't all that bad, does this mean your good news isn't all that good?"

"You seem annoyed," Miles remarked, his tone so mockingly concerned that Hope could picture the smirk on his face. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is Lightning there?"

"Yes, sir, which is why I'd like to hear the good news."

"I'm sure you'll be interested to know it has to do with her," the colonel pressed, and Hope's ears perked up. "But before I get to that, there's another piece to the bad news – the _main_ reason I tracked you down."

Hope swallowed thickly, his former fears rising anew as he paced even faster. "What else happened?"

"Well, it isn't really surprising, but Cocoon's buffering rods are rather attractive to lightning in weather like this. Security assessed that some damage was done to the power systems running the stanchions," Miles explained. He paused for a moment, presumably to let the information sink in, and Hope felt the beginnings of a tension headache.

"Anything more specific, sir?"

On the other end of the line, the colonel released a breath and continued, "There were a couple of small fires on the number two and number five stanchions, but the rain blowing into the enclosure took care of that. Obviously, once this storm slacks off, I'll need you back here to assess the damage and possibly call in the engineers for repairs. Any lapse in protection is just too dangerous."

"I understand, sir," Hope quietly replied, cutting off his pacing to collapse into one of the bucket seats. He could already picture his evening's long agenda. "May I please have this good news about Light, now?"

Miles jumped right in. "Well, I thought you'd be happy to know that none of the Council minions prowling in town today were able to successfully track her, thanks to your group splitting up, the tandem bicycling, and the rainstorm. It was perfectly unpredictable."

"Wait a minute," Hope blurted, grateful that Miles wasn't actually there to see how his eyes popped. "H-how did you know about the bicycle, and how did you know they were tracking her?"

His suspicions seemed almost anticipated, given the colonel's prompt response. "For starters, we expected they might try something after what happened last night, and true to form, we had reports from some of the sentries on patrol confirming the presence of several shady characters in the commercial district," Miles calmly explained. "It isn't really your jurisdiction, but you were already aware that there are a number of PSICOM and GC members who've been trained to keep close tabs on our most infamous troublemakers. They are also the ones who mentioned the tandem bicycle. I congratulate you on the brilliant, if entirely coincidental, escape from the danger zone."

_A zone we shouldn't have entered in the first place, right?_

"You can go ahead with the lecture – I know I deserve it," Hope muttered resignedly.

The colonel merely laughed once. "I don't think that's necessary. You told me this morning that you didn't expect Lightning to be up and about until mid-afternoon at the earliest, so I doubt you expected her to meet you in the first place. I honestly thought she was still shut inside Central because of the storm – at least, right up until we received contradictory reports from the patrols."

"I still could've gotten her into trouble—"

"But you didn't," Miles interjected. "You're both safely out of reach – I can only assume in the transport. Once the storm clears up, you can ride the bike back to Central without touching the commercial district, and we'll send a patroller to return it to the rental place. No harm, no foul."

"Thank you, sir. I—" Hope began, wanting to inquire further about the weather situation from Central itself, but he was cut off by a loud beep that repeated at two-second intervals. "Sir, I think Maqui's got an incoming call. Can you call him back when it looks like the storm's letting up over there?"

"Certainly. We'll see you soon." His line had just disconnected when the other caller immediately came through.

"Finally!" Lucil exclaimed with a huff. "I thought I'd never make it to lunch, and then I was on hold! You aren't usually in the middle of a crisis at _this_ time of day, blondie."

Smothering his laughter, it took Hope a few seconds to compose himself and explain. "Sorry, Lucil – I had to borrow Maqui's communicator for my own crisis. I'll get him for you."

"Hope?" she asked, her tone disbelieving. "What's this crisis? Is everything okay? Because I don't usually hear from you – as in not ever."

Hope shrugged, forgetting for the moment that she couldn't see the gesture. "I-I'm fine. Everything's fine. We're just having inclement weather, and the rain fried my communicator, so I had to take a business call on Maq's."

"Wait a minute," Lucil said skeptically. "Isn't it the big celebration day or something over there? What are you doing with work on a holiday, especially when I'm leading your wife's unit so she could go over there and see you? If you've pissed her off, I swear—"

"She isn't pissed off! She's right here with me, and up until about five minutes ago, I was _not_ doing any work," Hope fired back, throwing up his free hand. "What's with the accusations all the sudden? It's like you were waiting for me to screw up so you could yell at me."

Popping his head into the main cabin from the cockpit, Maqui shot him a puzzled look. "Dude, please tell me you aren't shouting at the commandant."

Hope shook his head furiously, searching for an opening to pass on the communicator before it got worse – it was terribly uncomfortable with Maqui staring at him like he'd lost his mind. As it stood, however, Lucil was still on her soap box.

"Oh-ho, trust me, I didn't need to _wait_ for you to screw up – I've been sitting on ammo for months. Light is my closest friend, and you have no idea how hard she's had it since you left. She'd never tell you herself, and I never hear from you, so I'm just taking advantage of an opening," Lucil continued to rant, gaining rather than losing momentum. "I wanna make it absolutely clear that if you hurt her, I will kick your ass. And that is _not_ a figure of speech. There will be bruises."

Now faced with an open challenge, Hope stood angrily and began pacing the cabin again. "Look, Light would be insulted if she heard you talking about her like she's just some codependent housewife, and_ I'm_ insulted that you imply I'm doing this willingly."

"Well, you kind of _are_ doing this willingly! Please refresh my memory on exactly whose decision it was to pack up and leave," Lucil pressed, the words beginning to get under his skin in earnest, and the nagging sting of it was only compounded as she completed the thought. "Are you ever even _remotely_ aware when you're playing with someone's heart? Lightning is a strong woman, but she isn't unbreakable."

"I-I know all of that," Hope choked, cursing himself for allowing his voice to falter under the lump of guilt that constricted his throat.

It didn't seem to faze Lucil in the least, and it was far from enough to stop her. "I'm sure you think you understand, but which account are you gonna trust? Your own jacked up idea of the situation? Or maybe Light's words, when she's far too proud to admit a weakness? I'm telling you right now, I'm probably the only person who's going to order you straight up to check yourself. Not tomorrow, not next month, but _now_."

"What exactly do you _want_ from me?" Hope groaned, by that point so beaten about the head with accusations that his pacing had become a retreat to a convenient corner of the storage room – somewhere Maqui and Lightning hopefully wouldn't witness him acting so out of sorts. He huddled against a crate, burying his face in his arm. "It's not like I have a choice. I can't just abandon this project, or people are going to die – two of my friends included. Do you have any idea how much it's killing me to stay away from her like this? I can't even let myself _think_ about tomorrow."

Right then, he heard a harsh _clap_ as the mop handle hit the floor across from him. When Lightning hastily bent down to pick it up, her eyes met his for a single second of anguished clarity before she moved on to rinsing and wringing out the mop in the sink, then leaving again to continue her task. Hope hadn't heard her stealthy footsteps following him into the space, but she had definitely heard every word he'd just said.

Lucil had merely grumbled to herself during that moment of reprieve, going on to insist, "That doesn't mean you can't do anything to fix this problem. I never said you had to drop everything and fly back here, but you could stand to visit more often. You'd better at least make sure she has a damn good time while she's over there. And that's an _order_ from me, your ass-kicking conscience."

"I promise… I'll do my best, Lucil," Hope said sincerely, even though he seriously doubted there was much more he could do to help before Lightning would leave the next morning. The very thought formed a chasm in his gut.

"Good. Now take care of yourself, and pass me on to Maqui before he kills you."

As if on cue, Maqui yelled across the cabin, "Hope, you selfish little turd! Can I have five minutes to talk to _my_ girlfriend on _my_ comm unit?!"

"Coming!" Hope scrambled to his feet, just about losing his towel in the process, and ran the communicator to Maqui like a relay baton. It was clear in the glaring resentment on his face that he knew Lucil was the one Hope had been screaming at initially.

"Watch your tone next time," Maqui muttered angrily, snatching the communicator away. He then did a complete one-eighty into playful conversation, and Hope wandered off toward where he'd spotted Lightning in the cargo bay.

She was still mopping, gliding the fabric strands over the floor in smooth strokes from side to side. When she paused to adjust and tighten her towel, Hope quietly approached and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Lightning had apparently heard him coming – she didn't even start at the contact.

"This is the last section," she muttered, positioning the mop in both hands again.

Hope loosened his hold and pried one of her hands free, inspecting her palm. The early formations of small blisters nearly shattered what composure he had left.

"No, you're done. I never meant for you to actually mop the whole ship."

"But that was the deal," she insisted, grabbing the handle tightly. "I agreed to do it, and I can't just back out now."

Hope reluctantly released her – he knew a losing battle when he saw one, and he couldn't possibly miss the meaning behind her words or her show of persistence. Lightning had heard what he said to Lucil, and she wanted him to know she understood his motivations. When she smiled slightly at him from over her shoulder, he honestly felt like melting into the floor.

_She doesn't deserve this – it isn't anything like the peaceful future I wanted for us. Not separated most of the time, not hiding from mean-spirited people, and definitely not fighting against the clock to prevent another disaster._

_Maybe I really am more trouble than I'm worth._

Utterly deflated, he moved to lean against the nearest wall. Maqui came stalking across the cabin toward him not a moment later, muttering to himself before he stopped right in front of Hope.

"Hey," he said, cocking his head to one side. The seriousness of his expression was uncharacteristic. "Lucil wanted me to tell you something."

"What is it this time?" Hope asked quietly, lowering his eyes to the deck.

Maqui simply sat on the panels, crossed his arms, and glared up at Hope.

"She said if you started getting all mopey, you'd better man up. And if you don't, I'm supposed to tell her so she can kick your ass. That's it."

In spite of everything, Hope laughed outright.

"Maq, I hope you've been working on your self-defense," he choked out. Because it won't be long 'til she finds some reason to kick_ your_ ass!"

"Sorry, I'm a lover, not a fighter," Maqui declared.

Hope rolled his eyes. "If you ever say that to Lucil, you'll definitely be in for it. You're just a joker."

"Yeah, well at least I'm not an idiot." He punctuated the statement with a slap of his polishing rag to Hope's leg, cracking up at the erratic dance Hope did to hop out of range from more attacks.

What Maqui clearly didn't anticipate was Lightning's return from her completed chore. Hope watched, pleased and amused, as she prodded Maqui with the end of the mop handle and glared him into the deck. The speed at which he scuttled away was impressive.

As she pressed the mop into Hope's chest for him to take it back, Lightning suggested casually, "Let's check on the clothes. I'm tired of wearing this towel."

Hope nodded at her words, accepting that he was in for another interrogation. After all, her eyes were asking for answers.

* * *

**Endnote: As you can now imagine, beta-roomie had a field day with this chapter. I'd grab some popcorn if I were you:**

Immediately after Hope asks Light to tell him where he messed up:** "Tell me what to apologise for so we can get back to wild monkey sex k thx."**

When Light is angry that even Snow assumed she knew:** "BURN."**

As they are riding through the storm and hauling the bike into the transport:** "stuff like this is why they needed to sign a liability waiver. I'm surprised they didn't run into a random monster and fight it with like, a Double Tandem Sword Blaster attack."**

When Hope asks if Light would believe it isn't the first time he broke the comm unit:** "No one would believe that. In fact, I'm tempted to believe you intentionally break it when you get bored. For funsies."**

As Light unfolded the soaked note from Gwen:** "it just says 'Do you like me? Check one [ ] Yes [ ] Yes THERE ARE NO OTHER OPTIONS BE MY FRIEND.'"**

Right where Hope suggests they dry their clothes in the engine room:** "[sighs] [stands up to cue the porno music] […pauses for a moment to wonder why she has porno music ready to cue] [existential crisis]"**

When Hope then reacts to Light's remark that they won't have the serious conversation:** "oh STOP EVEN TRYING with this wide-eyed Bambi look"**

And when he goes on to say she could bribe him:** "WORST. INTEL. OPERATIVE. EVER."**

After Light's follow-on thought that she missed out on some fun:** "what, getting drunk and wallowing in your sorrows wasn't fun? Psshhh."**

When Hope tries to deflect her immediate conclusion that they get down to it:** "omg this is TERRIBLE seductive wordplay, Hope; I'm getting embarrassed for you." Hthar - *ahem* real dudes aren't that suave :P**

Right after Light takes off her blouse:** "[porno music starts, because it's remarkably popular in our modern music scene and I am over my existential crisis]"**

After Hope's statement that he hopes she doesn't get all her targets into such a vulnerable position:** "LOL"**

When Hope explains why Maqui wouldn't be surprised at seeing him:** "….HOPE/LIGHT/MAQUI OT3 *hearts all over the place*"**

As Hope leaves when there is nothing more to discuss:** "I DISAGREE. THIS NEEDS TO BE DISCUSSED AT LENGTH."**

Right after Maqui asks what he's doing there naked:** "…is this a dream or a memory? Whatever, I'm down. [starts stripping]" Hthar - *sigh* because beta-roomie ships EVERYTHING lol.**

When Hope ends his explanation to Maqui with a vague 'that's what happened':** "Nothing else happened but that. At all. Nothing sticky happened. Nor did it get on the engines. Nooooooope."**

After Maqui threatens that he has resources to make Hope suffer if he doesn't clean up:** "Are you talking about the sex tape you and Hope made? You are, aren't you? HEAD CANON ACCEPTED."**

Once Maqui explains that he was getting his comm unit to talk to Lucil:** "Awwwwww little babies growing up and having sex with girls. And each other all together. OT4. (btw, this is your own fault for having a sex scene.)" Hthar – I wasn't overly explicit, geez *eyerolls***

At Maqui's rebuttal that he isn't screwing anyone in the transport:** "could not have said it better myself, you are in NO POSITION TO TALK HOPE STFU."**

After Hope grumbles that he wouldn't be a dick about cleaning up:** "…especially since your dick got you into it." Hthar - *badump-PSH***

Later on when Hope accuses Light of looking for an excuse to punish him:** "annnnd now the readers get another clear picture of their sex life thank you very much. :P"**

At Miles' congrats on their brilliant escape:** "…really? A tandem bicycle should never be combined with the word brilliant, let's be clear. :P" Hthar – SARCASM! Did Miles need a big BAZINGA sign? Also, what the heck is your problem with tandem bikes? They're loads of fun!**

When Hope insists as he talks to Lucil that Light is NOT pissed off:** "LIES."**


	8. Cherry Bombs

**A/N: Argh, I am bushed… but it IS that time, posting time. This chapter is a bit shorter than originally intended, due to some strategic decisions spawned by my wise and all-knowing roomie – please don't be too disappointed! As always, feedback is highly encouraged ^_^ I've got one little informative term first:**

***Brass – an informal term for high-ranking military members (officers)**

**And now, to my anons:**

**Terra7 – Ha, you're right; privacy is a commodity they can't always afford :P Glad you enjoyed the chapter, and the Maqui/Lucil stuffs! I am crazy excited to see what art you produce over the holiday break XDDD**

**PosterChild – Welcome to the fic And thanks for that; I'll try not to disappoint.**

**LawMan - *snorts* That's a pretty greasy sandwich; bit too high in fat :P I'm gonna just assume, based on your comment, that riding a tandem bike in the rain is LOTS of fun by your standards (at least I hope that's the case)! Ehehe… I suppose I have tended to mix the two. You can be sure of a smattering of awkwardness and fluff throughout the fic, though last chapter was rather concentrated. **

[Songs for Chapter 8: "Allowance" – Our Lady Peace; "Shake It Out" – Florence + the Machine; "Disaster Button" – Snow Patrol; "He Won't Go" – Adele]

Cherry Bombs (go off)

"Look alive, little rabbits!" Maqui shouted into the engine room, an aggravatingly chipper note in his proclamation. "Time to emerge from the den. Boss man says the storm's blown over."

Lightning growled to herself and sat up on the towel, rubbing a sore spot on her shoulder. "Hope, how do you _live_ with him?"

"Maybe the same way Serah lives with Snow," Hope mumbled sleepily, one arm still curled above his head.

She stared at him for a moment, arcing an eyebrow. "I doubt that."

"Why?" Hope asked, finally forcing himself upright and stretching. "He annoys the hell outta me sometimes, but he takes care of my stuff and makes me laugh. Isn't that basically Snow's thing?"

_Yes, that's Snow's main 'thing' for everyone else _but_ Serah._

Deciding to let it be, as there was no appealing to his logic in that just-awakened state, Lightning muttered a short, "Nevermind," and got to her feet. Hope wasn't far behind, and they made quick work of gathering their mostly dry clothes and getting dressed, though Hope had to detour briefly and retrieve a new shirt. The last thing Lightning remembered was to re-fold the letter and pocket it for later. If the storm damage Hope had mentioned was as serious as it sounded, she felt certain the repairs could not be delayed.

They emerged from the transport into dusky light, an effect of the westward moving storm clouds blocking the late afternoon sun as it followed the same path toward the mountains. While they pedaled silently along, Lightning spent the ride back to Central mentally cycling through strings of words that would be most effective to say to the colonel. She had a feeling he would be there to meet them upon arrival, and it would likely be her only chance to explain herself and set things right.

_And I really do have to set this right, if I ever want to join that expedition._

True to form, Miles was sitting patiently in the lobby when they rushed in from the glass walkway, not affected in the least by their disheveled appearances. He stood politely at their approach.

"I'm sorry to have called you back here like this," he said, dipping his head at them briefly. "Hope, I've got a reserve communicator for you to call the engineers, if necessary. Please call my extension first, though, once you've finished assessing the damage." Miles pulled the device from his pocket to hand it over, and Hope accepted it with a nod.

"Thank you, sir. I guess the sooner I get started, the better," he said quietly. Turning to Lightning, he tried a watery smile even as his eyes flooded with disappointment and guilt.

"I'll see you at dinner, okay?"

She smiled back despite sharing his disappointment – there was no sense in compounding his troubles, especially when it wasn't even his fault. The clock was ticking. "We'll be there. I'll tell the others what happened when they get back."

Reluctantly, Hope headed for the door, glancing back at her a final time before shutting it behind him. She kept her eyes fixed on the handle for a long, sinking moment before the colonel's voice brought her back around.

"Lightning, I'm truly sorry for the timing with this," Miles reiterated, and she immediately shifted her focus to his concerned face, bringing the body of words she'd planned to tell him to the front of her mind. It was now or never.

"Sir, if I may, I'd like to speak with you," Lightning said plainly. "It isn't about Hope – I understand that emergency situations happen, and I don't blame you for calling him in. However, I found out this morning that my own behavior was to blame for new restrictions on the enclosure, and I feel I owe you an explanation."

The colonel shook his head, raising a hand as he immediately refuted, "You don't need to explain yourself to me. I know you were telling the whole truth – something I made a point of championing in my speech before you ever said a word. I couldn't expect you to understand the fragile state of the population when you don't even live here, after all."

"That isn't an excuse, sir," she insisted. "If you would like me to speak to the leadership, I'd be happy to take responsibility for my actions and reassure them that I meant nothing against PSICOM or the Settlement. My pride isn't worth keeping my whole family shut off from Fang and Vanille, and certainly not worth making all of us look antagonistic. Hope doesn't need that."

Lightning didn't feel the least bit guilty for using Hope against the colonel, not when her point was absolutely valid, and not when it seemed to be working. Miles crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in serious consideration of her proposal. Several tense seconds later, he looked her straight in the eyes and replied, "If that's really what you'd prefer, I can make it happen. The department heads have been in and out of meetings since the storm started causing trouble, so they're still waiting around in the conference room for a status update. You're welcome to stick with me until Hope calls, and we can attend the next meeting from there."

"That would be perfect, sir," Lightning replied. "I can change into my uniform in five minutes, if you're willing to wait."

The colonel nodded, taking a seat in the lobby again as she headed for the room. When facing down a gathering of accusers, she would need all the confidence and credibility she could get – nothing delivered it better than a sharp appearance.

* * *

Waiting outside the door to the conference room to be called upon, the minutes seemed like hours. Lightning hadn't felt that level of nervous in a long time – her pulse was elevated, and she tapped the toe of her boot rapidly against the floor.

_I know I haven't done anything wrong, and I'm not here awaiting punishment, but I've mainly seen soldiers who were in serious trouble in this position. I guess my mind can't just dismiss that impression._

Finally, the door cracked open, and a stone-faced lieutenant gestured mutely for her to enter.

As Lightning stepped inside, the sight of that sheer amount of brass in the small room should have been intimidating – there had to be at least a dozen department heads, most of whom were accompanied by lower-ranking assistants. They were not, however, looking quite their best. By Lightning's estimation, the day of tedious meetings had dragged them all into a state of either boredom or plain fatigue. Many of the leaders sitting around the long table were aimlessly staring off, some nursed mugs of coffee, and others had both elbows propped on the wooden surface in order to support their heavy heads.

But every head, heavy or otherwise, swiveled in her direction once she closed the door behind her with a soft click. Lightning didn't even have to move from her place beside the entrance. She was already the center of attention, and they were all waiting for her.

"Commandant," she began, her head high as she shut out the many critical gazes and defaulted to the most proper greeting she knew, "and PSICOM high officials, good evening."

"Thank you for joining us, First Sergeant." The colonel was quick to set the calm, polite tone he clearly expected everyone to maintain, a comfort to Lightning in that terrible moment of scrutiny. It was a poor leader who couldn't control his subordinates, after all, and that man could control tens of thousands.

Continuing, he cut right to the chase. "Sergeant Farron has specifically requested attendance tonight to deliver a statement. I trust you will all give her your undivided attention."

There were glances exchanged across the table instantaneously – some looks of alarm, some of outrage, and others of absolute confusion. The entire array of those expressions above glowing ranks suddenly turned to bear down on Lightning like a microscope over a single ant, and it took every ounce of her willpower to keep her heart from plummeting to her boots.

_They won't punish you, they just need to understand. You're doing this for Hope._

_And if you don't do this, you'll never get the chance to help Fang and Vanille._

Eventually, one of the department heads, a mustachioed colonel with bushy eyebrows and a reddish sort of face, turned to the commandant and broke the silence. Unlike the others, he didn't seem affected in the least by her presence, and Lightning had to wonder if he knew something the others did not.

"With your permission, Sabin, I'd like to ask the Sergeant a few questions before she gets started."

"You don't _always_ have to be the first to throw in your two cents, you know… But go ahead," Miles said easily, obviously on pretty familiar terms with that particular colleague. Lightning got the distinct impression that it wasn't just because they were of equal rank.

Sitting up straighter in his chair, his thick eyebrows furrowed into one as he asked Lightning in a gruff, demanding voice, "Sergeant Farron, with all due respect, why_ exactly_ are you standing here? What do you hope to accomplish?"

"I intend to take responsibility for my actions, sir," she said boldly, thrown as to why he bothered asking, "and to clear the names of anyone associated with me. That includes my husband. The last thing I wanted to do was come to the Settlement and stomp on his reputation right in the middle of his project."

"Well, those are honorable reasons," the colonel assented. "Was it your husband's idea for you to come in here and make a statement, then?"

Lightning did not hesitate. "No. It was mine, sir."

"I see." The colonel paused to scratch at his mustache in thought, asking casually, "While we're on the subject, what_ did_ the director think about this incident? I don't mean to question your husband, but I'd like to hear it straight from you. After all, he's the one we've gotta work with around here."

Though surprising, the question wasn't one that could unseat any of the claims in Lightning's planned statement. If anything, it could strengthen them – the truth spoke for itself. She felt a great sense of relief at exiting the realm of convenient half-truths.

"He made it very clear that he did not approve of my actions," she stated, wondering if the colonel would delve further. It was never wise to give more details than necessary unless it was requested.

But delve he did. "Elaborate, please. Just because he might've spouted obligatory hogwash about how he 'didn't approve' doesn't mean anything."

"Well it meant something to me, sir," Lightning retorted, a bit unnerved by the way the gruff man smirked below his mustache at her suddenly fiery answer. She toned it down before adding, "He told me, in practically these exact words, that I freaked out the population and could have started a riot. I did a poor job of defending myself, and he stormed off. I would call that a very strong disapproval – one that my entire family shared, believe me. I'm afraid I used a lot of wine to deal with it."

Several of the other officers snickered quietly, and Lightning had to choke back a growl at their impertinence.

"Convincing enough, Sergeant. I believe I've said my piece." Lounging back in his chair, the colonel turned to the commandant again, deferring control.

Miles nodded to Lightning and calmly directed, "The floor is yours, First Sergeant."

"Thank you for this opportunity, Sir," she managed, focusing for a brief moment on keeping her breathing in check. "After last night, I know I left you all with a bad impression of my character, which is a poor reflection on my own command and those I'm associated with. While I can't go back and undo the damage my words may have done, I do need to clarify some points. One, that those were my words only, not the words of anyone else – least of all my family."

Every eye in the room was still trained on her as she paused to clear her throat, but she couldn't allow enough time to elapse for an interjection. Barely a breath later, Lightning continued. "Secondly, that my words were purely speculation. I have no way of actually knowing if Fang and Vanille will ever return, and it was misguided for me to assume that kind of claim would encourage the people of the Settlement or give them hope."

_After all, Miles, I'm just clinging to false hope, right? Considering that's what you fed everyone last night, they ought to eat this up without a second thought._

"Finally, my words were not an indication of any future plans for myself or my family to take action upon. We have every intention of honoring the non- interference agreements we signed – no means of interfering are known to exist in the first place. You have my word on it. And for my misleading conduct at last night's ceremony, you have my apologies." After she dipped her head in brief deference, the room remained pin-drop silent for a full ten seconds.

"Leaders, in light of this turn of events," Miles finally said, once her words had a fair chance to settle, "I'd like to make a very important request. And before I do, I want to be absolutely clear that Sergeant Farron knew nothing of this when she came to me about giving her statement."

Thankfully, the officers turned their attention from Lightning to lean in toward the table, allowing her to breathe normally as they waited for whatever the commandant had in store.

"Simply put, I propose a lifting of yesterday's emergency restrictions toward our guests, who clearly did not mean any harm here," he said calmly, unfazed by some of the shocked stares hitting him as he went on to explain his reasoning. "They are all leaving for Aerma Proper tomorrow morning, and this will be their last chance to pay respects to their friends in the enclosure – a courtesy denied them on the Day of Mourning."

Several objections were immediately raised, all of them a rehash of how Lightning's words had been unacceptable or how letting it go unpunished would set a bad precedent if the Council caught wind of it, but the charges were met with equal force from a number of supporters for the colonel's proposal. Their impassioned voices overlapped and interjected as they fought it out for the next fifteen minutes.

One lieutenant-colonel, a female officer that Lightning knew nothing of, even went so far as to shame the opposition. "To hell with the Council! They've got no business in our internal affairs to begin with. But is this really how we want to repay the people who saved Cocoon?" she demanded. "Why on Pulse would they do something now that might endanger us?"

And when none of the others could competently invalidate her claims, a hush settled over the leadership. Taking advantage of the gap, Colonel Sabin brought them back around to make a decision.

"Everyone, I know that we haven't had much time to consider this proposal, but since time is of the essence, I must put it to a vote. All those in favor of lifting the restrictions on the enclosure?"

A number of hands went up, though Lightning didn't get an exact count. When the colonel asked for those opposed, however, only four responded, and the motion passed. It honestly stunned her how reasonably she had been able get herself out of her own mess – and how much unexpected support she received from officers who had never even met her before, in addition to Miles.

Almost in a daze, Lightning only vaguely absorbed the signing of a revised agreement, the meeting's dismissal, and the casual greetings of the officials on their way out. The gruff colonel actually stopped and got her attention, asking very directly, "Sergeant Farron, give my best to your sister, would you? Just tell her Major Leonard said hello – she hasn't seen me in years, so all these promotions would probably just confuse her."

"Certainly, sir," she replied, bewildered by the request but sure it was kindly meant. The room was clear soon after, leaving only Miles to close up. Smiling, he gave her a small bow.

"Bravo, Sergeant. Now if you'd like, I can escort you to the enclosure. I'm sure Hope will be happy to see you." As the colonel crossed to shut off the light and lead her out, the signed and sealed document tucked neatly in a folder under his arm, a rush of gratitude over all his unwarranted assistance swept over her.

For the first time, Lightning caught a glimpse of what Hope had been showing her all along – just the smallest sample of which came through in his protective instinct for the colonel. She realised that her initial idea of Hope's motivations had been far too uninformed.

Hope didn't just want to_ protect_ everyone. That presupposed they were all stuck, pitted against something unavoidably devastating, and that either PSICOM or the GC or the Public Council was 'right' to bring about the changes they thought most desirable. But no one really knew what method was best, or what was to come. It was not a simple problem.

But it was a problem Hope intended to solve – for Fang and Vanille, the people of the Settlement, and all of PSICOM – by the least destructive means possible. He had found exactly one other person in the world who supported his same ideals, and Miles was now the person he felt most obligated to protect. He knew he couldn't accomplish anything without the colonel's influence and assistance.

Thinking seriously on the issue as she followed the commandant through winding passageways toward the enclosure, the same sense of foreboding that had hit Lightning on the flight over began to tighten around her heart again.

_Hope is never coming home, is he?_

* * *

Hope was greeted with a curt nod from the posted guard the instant he set foot in the enclosure, and while a slight tingle of resentment did course through him at the sight of that restrictive measure against him on _his own_ worksite, he was far too tired and too preoccupied with his time-sensitive task to give it much thought. Instead, he painted on a smile and waved at the unfamiliar sentry in passing.

Several paces in, a shower of sparks rained down in short bursts from high up on the number five stanchion, and even from the ground he could see a dark blotch of charring on the metal framework. A quick walk over to the number two stanchion proved similar, though the damage there appeared to be in three different clusters descending from the point at which it connected to Cocoon's underside.

Not one to rely on guesswork, Hope pulled on his gloves and set to work climbing the number two stanchion to closely inspect its lowest point of damage. Its lack of sparks would be the safer bet, but he still didn't intend to stick around. After carefully weaving his way up the cross beams, he circled to the far side where the charring was most severe, peering into the stanchion's wired core. Right away, he could see that one of the amplifying nodes within had been overloaded and burst from the surge of electricity, and it was obvious that the same fate had befallen the two other nodes above it in a chain reaction.

The path of the lightning's power had been random, but it was easily analyzed – a dangerously intense strike had destroyed three nodes of the stanchion he was on, while another had clearly hit the number five stanchion with less force, and more recently. Something was still burning within the core there.

It was all Hope needed to know to make his decision. While he understood how the system worked and had the power to operate it, he had not been the one to design and install the wiring or the complex amplifying nodes. Given the facts, he could only tell that the damage was a result of power flooding in from the wrong direction, since the stanchions were meant to be activated from the ground up.

_Ugh. Now I know how Sazh felt when his ship crashed. Time to call in the crew._

Immediately after his feet hit the concrete, Hope jogged to the exit and left the enclosure, pulling out his communicator to dial the colonel. One brief explanation later, he was calling the four members responsible for the two affected stanchions. When the project was originally organized, each stanchion had been assigned both a structural and an electrical engineer for oversight and repairs, and that would be all the manpower necessary to do the job. There was no need to call in the whole ten-man team.

Several minutes dragged by as one engineer after another begrudgingly accepted the order to leave their families and come to work, though the fourth had to defer to a replacement because he was clearly inebriated. So Hope called in the electrical engineer for stanchion number four, repeating the unpleasant news a fifth time. In the end, he slumped down to the floor against the wall, holding his head for a moment as he collected his thoughts.

_This sucks. I can't even describe how much. It feels like I've personally ruined the holiday for four people. Well… five, counting Lightning._

Hope rubbed his tired eyes and took a deep breath. The least he could do would be to smile, and thank the engineers, and make sure they had proper supervision.

* * *

The four-man team had been working tirelessly on the repairs for nearly an hour when Hope called them down for a break and inspection. He may not have been terribly careful about climbing the stanchions unprotected himself, but he would take no chances with the engineers and their safety harnesses. An hour never went by on that sort of work without him stopping everything to check the belts and clasps.

"Director, you realise nothing's gonna change about these old things in the space of an hour, right?" one of the engineers scoffed, snatching his inspected harness back from Hope with a laugh. "If it can hold my fat gut now, it'll _still_ hold a couple of hours later. I'm not shovelin' cake at sixty feet."

Hope snorted and shook his head. "Just let me have my peace of mind, Sal. Hanging around up there for too long can make your hands start to slip up anyway, and that is a _really_ long way to drop a screwdriver."

"Oh, I think we'll manage, my boy." He had only taken a couple of steps back toward the number five stanchion when he stopped suddenly, turning to Hope again with a concerned expression on his scruffy face. "Come to think of it, is it really necessary for you to stay here watchin' us grumps fiddle with wires? I seem to remember hearing your family was in town for a couple of days."

"You heard right," Hope admitted, trying to shrug it off. "But it _is_ necessary for me to be here. If anything happens to you, it's my responsibility as your supervisor. Besides, you're all missing time with your families now, too."

"Yeah, but my wife lives with me," Sal countered quietly, and Hope felt himself shrinking inside in that way he always did when Sazh called his bluff. He didn't know what to say in response, and even if he had come up with the words, his throat seemed to have closed off at the thought of Lightning's departure in less than twelve hours. The best he could do was to stuff his hands into his pockets and nod, his eyes cast toward a water splotch on the concrete.

Strangely, the lack of reply hadn't led Sal to leave. He was rooted to the spot, and when Hope glanced up, the engineer had fixed his gaze on a point somewhere past him.

He suddenly pointed in that direction as he laughed in surprise, "Well, what d'ya know… Think it's about time for me to get back up that stanchion."

Hope whipped his head around, momentarily confused at the sight. There was the colonel, casually striding into the space with Lightning and quickly dismissing the posted guard as though it was nothing special. The two of them were already heading Hope's way, but he couldn't wait. He jogged toward them with a slowly spreading smile on his face.

"Guess I'll leave you to it!" Sal had called out after him, presumably going back to his work, but Hope was still so absorbed in his happy state of disbelief that he couldn't turn away. Something significant had to have taken place for Lightning to be escorted in so simply.

As Hope met them in the middle of the enclosure, Miles was quick to sum up the situation.

"So what do you think, Hope? No more restrictions on the enclosure?"

"Impressive," Hope said, trying to tone down his excitement as he took Lightning's hand. "Is it for good?"

"As long as I behave, I'm sure," she remarked with a guarded smirk.

Miles also added, "The rest of your family should be coming back before long, and they are welcome to pay a visit to Fang and Vanille. The leadership is no longer suspicious of foul play. Well, most of the leaders are on board, at least."

_Wouldn't I love to know why. They were all up in arms about it to this point – it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since the ceremony incident. So what changed that was enough to convince them to completely _remove_ the restrictions?_

_Light, what have you been up to?_

Temporarily floating on his high spirits, Hope was just about to ask Lightning what she'd done to turn the tables when they were all distracted by a loud series of clanks reverberating through the worksite, as if something had fallen and ricocheted off a few metal surfaces. Hope didn't see anything amiss at first as his eyes frantically searched the area, but when he looked back to Lightning, her face suddenly contorted in disgust.

Almost instantaneously, Miles had the same reaction, and Hope finally caught on to the offending smell himself – it was a horrible cross between the stenches of sulfur and decaying flesh. Lightning quickly brought a hand to cover her nose and mouth, her sharp gaze seeking the source of the rotten odor. They both finally spotted it between the number three stanchion and the pillar – a cloud of yellowish fumes was beginning to billow over the entire enclosure from there.

"This could be dangerous – we need to leave," Lightning ordered, dragging Hope by the arm.

He resisted long enough to shout up at the engineer on the number two stanchion, "Stay up there where it's safe, Andy! You don't need to come down here until we clear this out!" The concentrated cloud of crystal particles spreading out from the pillar would be enough to form a purifying barrier between the gas and the man aloft – it was a much better option than the risk of him climbing down into the yellow gas. Eyes panning across the enclosure in a quick sweep, Hope spotted the other three engineers as they ran toward him.

Once they arrived, Lightning led the charge for the nearest exit, with Hope bringing up the rear. Just before he stepped into the passage after the others, he noticed bits of red flash through the air as several projectiles rained down on the worksite. Wherever they hit the ground, they exploded into bits of white that looked like paper confetti. That was the last thing he saw before the door sealed behind them, and it was completely unnerving.

"Hey, did any of you see that?" he asked anxiously. "The red things and the paper?"

"Insignificant right now," the colonel replied, hastily calling an extension on his communicator. "Security? Yes, this is he. We need a squad to investigate possible toxic gas in the central enclosure." There was a brief pause as the receiver apparently asked for details.

"No, it isn't coming from the ventilation. It appeared to be launched in from outside the facility, somehow. There is one engineer still inside, up on the number two stanchion, but he should be safe as long as he stays above the crystal dust. If the situation escalates, we can evacuate him from the roof."

A minute or so dragged by as everyone absorbed the situation, and the silence soon became uncomfortable; Hope could tell the engineers were working hard not to dwell on their colleague's predicament, but he didn't know what else to say. The sounds of anxiously tapping or scuffing boots reverberated in the passage until one of the men cleared his throat.

"What is this, the apocalypse?" Sal finally muttered with a nervous laugh. "Blackouts and lightning strikes, and now we've got gas bombs."

Beside Hope, Lightning rolled her eyes. "Don't any of you remember what the _real _apocalypse was like?"

"I remember you rode in on a white horse," Hope quipped, trying to lighten the mood, and sure enough he had the guys snickering. Even Lightning cracked a smile, shaking her head at him.

"Beats sitting in a castle."

"Aw, don't rag on Alexander," Hope complained in an aside to her. "With the way things have been lately, we could _use_ a giant magical fortress."

Seconds later, footsteps down the metal passageway announced the arrival of the CBR squad. They filed past in their hooded suits and breathing apparatuses, acknowledged the commandant with a quick nod, and continued toward the east entrance with several measuring instruments and large suction devices.

"Well, this may take a while," Miles wearily announced. "I suggest you all use this break to get early chow, then regroup later."

Hope checked his watch, looking back up at the engineers. "We'll meet here at the south entrance in forty-five minutes. Don't be late, or it'll be even longer before we're done for the night."

"Director, you're starting to sound like little Z," Sal remarked, quickly qualifying after a pointed glare from Hope, "Don't worry – we'll get back in plenty of time. I can grab a plate for Andy, too."

"Good thinking. I'll see you all in a bit."

Hope mulled over his options as he watched the trio depart. Turning to Lightning, the two of them shared a look.

"Are you hungry?" Hope asked.

"No. You?"

"Just grimy," he said casually. "Shower?"

"Please."

From where he still stood, leaning against the wall on the other side of Hope, the colonel cleared his throat. "Forty-four minutes remaining, you two." He shook his head as he strolled past them, smiling nonetheless.

Shortly after, they headed east themselves. It was a quiet walk, broken only when Lightning suddenly asked, "He did realise we're actually taking a shower, right? After all the sweatiness and everything today, and then smelling that nasty gas, I feel pretty disgusting. Deodorant can only go so far."

Hope shrugged. "All those lovely reasons aside, Miles isn't dumb enough to tag you as the type to need more than five minutes for a standard shower. Where _will_ the rest of our time go?"

"Who said this qualifies as standard? Thanks to _you_ – and this _is _your fault in every way possible – I could use a thorough scrub-down. Besides, you've failed to account for the ten-minute walk both ways," Lightning immediately deduced, her precision and serious tone stirring up a round of chuckles from Hope. She punched him playfully in the shoulder for good measure.

"Okay, okay," he sputtered. "Scrubbing it is. Goddess knows I've had enough practice today!"

"Hope, I am _not_ an engine, or any other piece of machinery for that matter," Lightning growled, automatically putting a bit more space between them as she reverted to a silent, stoic mode.

_Could've fooled me,_ he thought, but he wasn't nearly enough of a glutton for punishment to say that aloud.

"I-I didn't mean it like that," he tried, chuckling again as he hooked his arm through her stiff one. "I just count myself lucky to know how to transfer one skill set right into another."

"Hmph, speak for yourself." She didn't say another word, but the way she relaxed against his hold and her slight smirk were all he needed to know they were back on the same page.

* * *

Over the years, Lightning had found that the shower was one of the only places in which she tended to lose track of time, and that was even without Hope. Unless she was using the same shower day in and day out, following exactly the same sequence of tasks, she could not tell how much time had passed.

It went without saying that showering with Hope in an unfamiliar location was entirely unpredictable, so she'd set her watch alarm for fifteen minutes from the time they set foot in the bathroom.

"But I thought your math gave us _twenty-five_ minutes," Hope complained, stepping into the stream and leaping back out with a yelp when the scalding water hit his skin.

"Sorry," Lightning said. "I got spoiled to hot showers." She adjusted the cold water up for an acceptable balance and got in first. Still talking from behind the curtain, she explained more loudly, "And you forgot to factor in a few minutes to dry off and put on clothes, Hope. You can't just streak to the enclosure from the shower. It's no wonder you're never early."

Hope finally stepped in next to her, testing the water with the back of his hand as it glanced off her shoulders. "How do you know I'm never early?" He punctuated the question with a playful flick of the droplets back in her face.

"I haven't seen evidence to the contrary," Lightning retorted, pooling a generous amount of shampoo in her palm and working it into her hair. "And you_ are_ a creature of habit. I have to say that's mostly a good thing." She closed her eyes when the suds tried to invade, leaning her head back into the stream to rinse. Not at all surprised when Hope's lips gently brushed hers through the water, Lightning smiled against them, but as they began the winding journey down her neck and body she was suddenly on the alert. Once he moved beyond her navel ring she had to interfere.

"Hope," she warned, gripping the top of his hair in one hand and swiping the water out of her eyes with the other. "Don't."

_Habitual to a fault. I don't think we've ever showered together without him pulling something like this… Though to be fair, I've never minded before._

It was impossible for her to effectively stare him down while having to constantly wipe the dripping water from her face. Hope blinked his bemused green eyes up at her, clearly not quite catching her reasoning.

"Why not?"

Lightning loosened her hold on his hair and absently combed her fingers through it, sighing in exasperation. "We don't have enough time." The words echoed an unspoken dread that neither of them wanted to address.

"I know, but… we aren't guaranteed much later," he said, his soft voice almost drowned out by the shower.

Pounding on the door to the room, loud enough to be heard even over the splattering water, stopped Lightning from responding despite the pained look on Hope's face.

"I should get that. If it's Snow, he won't have the decency to quit," she said hurriedly, leaving a disappointed Hope to finish cleaning up and throwing a towel around herself to answer the door.

Lightning cracked it open to see the Villiers family standing in the hallway, and Serah smiled and waved timidly at her. The shadows that lurked in her sister's eyes revived some of Lightning's earlier suspicions that something was off, but she knew it was a bad time to address it.

"So, we heard Hope's got himself stuck in a project," Snow scoffed, trying to be casual about it. "Thought it might be a good time to get you for dinner. Sazh and Dajh have already headed over there."

While she appreciated the concern, some part of Lightning felt guilty and frustrated that her issues had drawn the family's focus in spite of her efforts to keep them under wraps, and they were anything but subtle about it. In a strange reversal of the norm, it was Hope who had managed to show a convincing mask.

Now that she had seen through his front, however, it was impossible for Lightning to erase those desperate words from her mind – ones she hadn't been intended to hear. They pounded in her head over and over.

"_Do you have any idea how much it's killing me to stay away from her like this? I can't even let myself _think_ about tomorrow."_

"…_it's killing me…"_

_It's killing me, too._

And she knew that, just like her, his lips were effectively sealed on the subject of struggles and weakness until it was forced or weaseled out of him. "Actually," she explained, gesturing behind her, "Hope's in the shower right now. He got a short break while they do a safety sweep on the enclosure, but we're going back there in a few minutes."

Serah sighed and shook her head. "Sis, you could still come to dinner. Miles delivered the good news that we aren't banned anymore, so we wanted to drop by the enclosure right after we ate, anyway."

"What about Hope?" Lightning asked, a defensive edge creeping in on her voice.

"Well… we all know how he gets when he's focused on a project," Serah tried uneasily. "You can tell him we're going to dinner, but I doubt he'll be able to join us. I bet he'd like it if we took him a plate, though."

As strange as it was to speak against her little sister when Serah was the one trying to be realistic, Lightning couldn't let it go – she had finally caught on to the fact that Hope was hanging on by a thread, no matter how happy and positive he had feigned to be over their visit.

"No," she said firmly. "He's not exactly thrilled about being stuck with an emergency repair job. The least we can do before we all pack up and leave tomorrow is to wait on him for dinner."

"I-I'd be on board with that," Serah stammered in surprise, bending down to scoop Milo up before he toddled straight past Lightning's legs and into the room. "If it isn't going to take too long – Milo may have to eat early, but I guess the rest of us could stand to wait."

Nodding her acceptance, Lightning added, "We can't delay for long anyway, given the chow hall hours."

Snow just shrugged, a knowing grin overtaking his face. "I didn't know the dinner thing meant so much to you, Sis. I mean, we all had lunch together today, and you aren't exactly the biggest fan of 'group' time."

"This isn't about me," she muttered.

"A'right, I get it," Snow corrected, raising his hands penitently before he turned and started down the corridor. "We'll pass it on to Sazh and Dajh. Maybe they aren't in line yet."

Serah smiled back at her, adjusting Milo in her arms as she followed Snow. "See you there, Sis."

"Oh – one more thing, Serah," Lightning called after her, remembering her promise to pass on the message from the meeting. "I ran into a PSICOM officer earlier, a former Major Leonard, who wanted me to tell you hello for him – had bushy eyebrows, a mustache, sort of a reddish face. He said you'd know who he was by the rank of Major, even though he's a colonel now."

As Serah froze in her tracks, the smile that graced her lips was almost regretful. "Yeah, I met him years ago. He used to be Miles' immediate superior." Shaking her head as if to clear her mind of the memory, she turned to follow Snow once again and said dismissively, "If you see him, tell him I hope he's doing well."

Lightning just nodded, the wheels in her head grinding against each other as she processed the new information.

_Hmph, he's made Colonel. I'd say that's doing well. Interesting that he'd let his subordinate pass him up for commandant, but I can't say it was a bad call._

Even after they were out of sight, Lightning leaned heavily against the doorframe for a minute as scene after scene from the strange day rolled through her mind. She couldn't understand why she suddenly felt so drained – though the possibility of heavy emotional burdens coupled with the tiniest vestiges of hangover recovery seemed logical. At one point, Lightning entertained the notion of indefinitely delaying departure from the spot, fearing that once she took a step, time would lurch back into motion, gaining speed until it rushed her through the hours. She could already picture herself sitting there in her office, going over the backed up paperwork – she would stare out the dingy window tomorrow and think back to this moment in the doorway, when she was dreading being alone again.

But no amount of dread or delay could do anything, in the end. Her piercing alarm buzzed from the bathroom, the sound of the shower cut off, and Hope burst into the room – still dripping – to fling her watch far from his body like it might explode. The moment of contemplation was effectively broken.

"How can you stand waking up to that-that _thing _every day?" Hope exclaimed, torn between wanting to cover his ears and needing to dry off. The way he compromised to hop around with one hand covering his right ear and the other trying to use the towel wrenched an unexpected laugh from her throat.

Crossing to the bed, Lightning picked up her watch and shut off the alarm. "It's effective, isn't it? Pleasant sounds don't make you want to wake up."

* * *

_Maker, I wish I hadn't been right._

The very second Hope stepped into the cleared but foul-smelling enclosure with Lightning and the engineers, it was apparent to him what they were in for. The bits of white he'd seen explode into the air like confetti did turn out to be paper, and upon closer inspection of the scattered pieces covering the ground, he noticed bits of black printed on them.

Hope scooped up a handful of the papers, reading their tiny messages one by one. The bold, capital letters on each piece spelled out the same chilling question:

DO YOU LIKE THE SMELL OF FEAR?

Unfortunately, Lightning had also caught on to the white confetti's significance before he had a chance to run interference. She stood absolutely still just a few meters away, her eyes fixed on the single slip of paper between her fingers.

"I did this." Her voice was quiet and hardened with finality. Hope knew there was nothing he could say or do to counter her, not when the core of what she meant was true, but he had to try and soften the blow.

He walked calmly to her side, crushing the wad of papers he held in his fist and letting them fall to their feet. "It was just a childish prank – who uses stink bombs anymore?" he said with an air of annoyance, dusting his hands as though he was rid of the attack's effect with that little effort. "Besides Maqui, I mean."

"Hope, this isn't a joke," Lightning growled, the force of her words causing him to take a step back. She curled her hands into fists at her sides, refusing to look him in the eye. "Maybe this time it was harmless, but mark my words – once protests start using weapons of _any _kind, they have a tendency to escalate. Next time, it could be a real bomb."

_We're facing an awful lot of maybes as it stands – guess I'll add possible bombs to the list. I'm well aware this isn't a joke, but it still doesn't change anything._

Hope steeled himself to continue. "Then we'll have to tread lightly, take extra precautions," he said, sure she understood that this was simply a situation that had to be dealt with, no matter how unpleasant or even dangerous it seemed. "We've never been under the impression that this project was risk-free. We just know the risk is worth the reward, when it's all said and done."

She looked at him then, and for a fraction of a heartbeat he saw the concern behind Lightning's eyes that whispered, _I'm still not okay with this._

After a heavy breath, Lightning brought a hand to her forehead. "We should go get dinner. I told Serah and Snow to wait for us, and I don't want to hold them up too long."

"Sure," Hope quietly agreed, feeling powerless against all the worries he could practically see piling onto Lightning's shoulders the more he exposed her to his new world. It had never been part of the plan, but he honestly couldn't think of a way around being straightforward with her anymore. And now, it was too late to take any of it back.

Resting a hand on her arm, he offered reassuringly, "They'll have all of this cleaned up by the time we get back. It's better if the others can focus on Fang and Vanille without thinking about protesters and their shenanigans, right?" She gave a short nod, and with that, Hope wandered over to where the engineers were preparing to go back to work on the stanchions, explaining his brief departure and checking their equipment once more for good measure. He returned to Lightning and led the way out with no further discussion, only sparing a single glance behind at the remaining security squad sweeping the confetti-littered worksite that would haunt his memories for weeks to come.

The calculated mockery of it was slowly sinking into his bones – the bright red projectiles and exploding white paper reminiscent of the parade and fireworks display that celebrated a successful future, all spoiled with the stench of 'fear.' Had it been the usual Public Council attack aimed primarily at PSICOM or even himself, he could have brushed it off in due time, but this was far from typical. Lightning was clearly their target. That fact alone was enough to stir up a vengeful anger in Hope's chest that he hadn't felt in years.

_We won't be the only ones treading lightly if they dare threaten her again._

* * *

**Endnote: Beta didn't go quite as wild as with last chapter, but she still had some good fun, so please enjoy!**

**Right after Hope tries to explain how he lives with Maqui: "Man, you're just deliberately teasing the Hope/Maqui stuff now, aren't you? :P"**

**At Light's thought about Snow's main 'thing': "I really want to make a penis joke right here, but it's just too easy."**

**As Light enters the meeting: "ugh. It's like every military meeting ever when officers are present. Anxiety x1 million ughhh"**

**After the description of the colonel with the mustache: [crazy mini-comic of officer with mustache and flame-like hair] "you didn't describe his hair, so I can only assume it's similar to other Japanese anime/video game military hairstyles (read: super effed up and out of regs)"**

**When Light speculates that Hope is never coming home: "ohhh sad :-( That's a harsh realisation to have."**

**After Sal explains that he isn't shoveling cake: "omg yes. Can Sal be a main character? I want a side story entirely about the daily life of Sal the Engineer. :P"**

**When Hope then warns that it's a long way to drop a screwdriver: "…right through someone's skull. GOOD CALL HOPE."**

**At the point where Hope asks Light if it's for good, and she says as long as she behaves: "You hear that, Hope? NO PUBLIC SEX WITH LIGHT IN THE ENCLOSURE. I can't believe I have to say this, but obviously you don't understand these things :P"**

**After Hope asks if anyone saw the red capsules and paper, and Miles just says that's insignificant: "I'm gonna go with … nope, probably not :-)"**

**When Hope jokes about Light riding in on a white horse during the 'real' apocalypse: "hahaha lol which one of the horsemen was she? Wait—war, she was definitely war."**

**When Light explains to Hope that he can't just streak to the enclosure: "though that WOULD be a hilarious dare :P"**

**After Light states that she hasn't seen evidence to the contrary [that Hope is ever early]: "haha I don't even care, I'm interpreting this as a sex joke :P"**

**When Light says that pleasant sounds don't make people want to wake up: "lies. On the contrary, unpleasant sounds make me want to stab people :P"**

**At the question printed on the papers: "OMINOUS…"**

**When Light feels sure this is an indication that they might use a real bomb the next time: "True things are true. That stuff's TERRIFYING."**

**As Hope reads the look in her eyes as saying she isn't okay with the situation: "I know you don't mean it like this, but in my mind, I'm like, 'Hey cool, they've developed telepathy! Super hero story!'"**


	9. Misplaced

**A/N: Well, this has definitely been the record drought in my newest story, and for that I am sorry. In addition to the usual holiday hiatus, many other factors have contributed to my glorious delay – not the least of which was a bout of bronchitis, or my beta-roomie's family being in town until January 3****rd****. Just count yourselves lucky that she got to return my edits RIGHT BEFORE getting PRK on her eyes. She is currently hopped up on vicodin for the recovery and sends her goofy regards ^_^**

**Due to the already-lateness of this chapter, I'm skipping on the individual replies here so you guys can READ, but really, thank you all for sticking with me and for leaving feedback – which I would love more of after this, to gauge the direction I've begun to take… I'm not actually having writer's block at this time, either, so this next wait should be back to normal!**

[Songs for Chapter 9: "Will Someday Change" - Our Lady Peace; "The Scientist" – Coldplay; "No Other Way" – Jack Johnson; "This Way" – Jewel; "Breakable" - Ingrid Michaelson; "My Mirror Speaks" – Death Cab for Cutie; "Alexythemia" – Anberlin; "Are We There Yet" - Ingrid Michaelson]

(everything's) Misplaced

Lightning wasn't quite sure how they did it, but she and Hope somehow managed to survive dinner with the family without letting a single hint slip about the stink-bomb incident in the enclosure. It helped that no one even bothered to ask why the enclosure had needed a safety sweep, not between mouthfuls of food and discussion about the next morning's departure schedule.

Still, as they headed for the worksite itself, Lightning was well aware that they couldn't bet on their luck lasting – especially not once they actually entered the foul-smelling place.

"Whoa, man…" Snow groaned, waving a hand in front of his face once they entered the enclosure. "Who dropped a bomb in here?"

The remark made Serah and Dajh snicker, and even Milo mimicked Snow's hand-waving as he complained, "Eww, Dada!"

"It wasn't me, curly!"

Hope looked a bit nervous, obviously fishing for the words to explain, but Lightning thought it more effective to just smack her brother-in-law on the arm. "Did you want to see Fang and Vanille or not?"

"Oh, c'mon, Sis – of course I do!" Snow protested, putting Milo down and away from the argument. "Can't hurt to lighten the atmosphere a little, right? I mean, don't tell me you expected busted machinery to smell this bad!"

_So _that's _what they're assuming._

"He's got a point," Sazh chimed in. "That storm must o' hit a sewage line somewhere. Not worth dwelling on, though." Thankfully, the wise man's involvement saved them being in the uncomfortable position of explaining what really caused the smell, so Lightning simply moved on. Turning away from Snow's cocky smirk, she noticed that Hope had become preoccupied with something else already – Milo had decided to toddle over and attach himself to his leg.

Lightning could only deduce that the child was still grateful for the cookie Hope had given to him at dinner. She didn't expect him to understand that it would be his last chance to get some attention from his uncle for a while – however long it would be this time.

Either way, Hope was all smiles and couldn't have looked more pleased. He patted Milo's curls and allowed him to stay clamped around his lower leg, walking along lopsided as the group headed toward the pillar.

When they had gathered at the base, Hope tilted his head and pointed high up on the crystal at a dark, indistinct region. "That's where they are," he explained solemnly. "I'm sorry it's so far off and hard to see, but this is as close as we can get. Better than nothing, anyway."

Serah's reaction was automatic. She stepped up to the pillar and placed her palms against the cool surface, her face a mask of concentration as though she might hear them if she listened closely enough. Watching her sister, Lightning realised that she must have done that exact thing countless times in the past – a hopeful gesture to get through to someone, particularly when all of Serah's important 'someones' had left her to fend for herself.

It still baffled her why Hope had been the only one to respond all those years ago, when he wasn't even a target.

"Serah," she asked, touching her sister on the shoulder, "Why do you think you never got through to us when we were like this?"

Serah let her hands drop away from the pillar, the sadness in her blue eyes reaching the depths of her soul. "I… I really wish I knew. As much as I wanted you and Snow back, I think some part of me still kept preparing to survive if it wasn't possible. I couldn't just fall apart – Dajh needed me, and then Hope did, too."

"So, you think if one of us was really desperate for them to wake up, they might just do it?" Hope asked quietly. It was obvious by the wary looks on everyone's faces that they had considered the same idea, but weren't sure if it was appropriate to say anything.

And it was even clearer who the ideal candidate would be for such a task. Hope was lost in thought, his eyebrows furrowed as he reflected – Lightning could see the foremost question on his mind all over his face: _Then what am I missing?_

Snow, however, didn't appear to be catching on. He smacked a fist into his other palm and declared against the challenge, "I think I could work up some desperation!"

"Snow, don't take this the wrong way," Lightning said, masking her irritation, "but you were definitely not responsible for waking anyone else before. What makes you think you have a shot this time?"

Crossing his arms defensively, Snow immediately countered, "I never got a shot before! Just think about this for a second – if Hope's right that it took somebody being desperate enough to bring another person out of crystalstasis, it'd have to be a really close loved one, right? Well that pretty much pins Dajh to his dad, Serah to me, and Hope to you. I dunno what happened with Hope waking up in the first place, but my theory's still pretty solid."

"If you're right," Hope offered, his eyes lighting up, "I think it might've been my father. I woke up about three months after the fall, and he was probably trying to get out of Aerma to find me at that point."

"Now wait just a minute," Sazh interjected, fixing his dark eyes on each of them. "You're all basin' this on the idea that Serah wasn't desperate enough to bring back her fiance or her sister for all those years? I'm just not buyin' it."

Serah ducked her head, looking ashamed at the very suggestion, but she couldn't seem to find the words for her defense. Hope finally spoke up for her.

Taking a breath, he explained calmly, "In her position, I don't think any of us would've expected some miraculous wake-up. Serah was just like me – the more we saw, the more we wanted to believe it would happen. When Sazh woke up, it seemed even more possible that Lightning and Snow could too, but by then…" He trailed off, seeming to consider some other important factor in the equation. Lightning could not follow his reasoning, so she waited in silence with the others for a full, dragging minute.

"That's it!" Hope said, clapping once and startling everyone except Milo, who just squealed happily and clapped several times. "I think part of the reason nothing happened with Serah for so long was that she didn't know where Snow and Lightning were, or even if they were still crystallized. That's the only thing that changed before Snow woke up – we found him and got him out of Central. We didn't find Lightning for another three years!"

As reasonable as it sounded, something still didn't sit right with Lightning. "But if that's the big determining factor, it doesn't explain how your father was able to affect you. He was halfway across the planet, and there's no way he knew exactly where you were."

"Well, he knew my general location," Hope suggested, scratching his head. "He knew I was near Cocoon, if anywhere. And what's more, he didn't know I was crystallized at all. Maybe that changes things."

"Or he coulda just been crazy desperate," Dajh added, the seriousness of his words surprising them all. "Weren't you the only person left in the world he was livin' for?" Hope stared wide-eyed at the teenager, who was clearly developing the same uncanny insight as his father, but none of them could contribute anything to the observation.

Suddenly, a loud sigh issued from behind the group. "You're all barking up the wrong tree, you know."

They collectively spun to face the newcomer in the black lab coat, and Alyssa blinked her curious eyes at the attention.

"What makes you think we're wrong, specifically?" Hope asked, his voice regaining its detached, professional edge.

"Oh, I don't think you're wrong, Director," she said easily, "I just think you're focusing on the wrong points to tackle the issue at hand. Obviously, you all know exactly where Fang and Vanille are, and you all care about them. But it's just as obvious that none of you have been able to affect them all this time. What makes you think that's going to change? Will you suddenly start caring extra-hard?"

Lightning watched Hope's eyes narrow into a glare as he visibly bristled. Before he could say anything, she cut in, "Are you suggesting there's another way to deal with this? Because I haven't seen or heard of any new developments in the 'science' of people randomly waking up from crystalstasis."

"No, I can't say I've found any methods to actually wake them," Alyssa remarked thoughtfully, tapping a finger on her chin, "but that would be a violation of the non-interference agreement anyway. I personally think they have their reasons for not waking up yet, and that's why I think it's more important for us to find a way to communicate with them. They might be able to tell us what's wrong with Cocoon."

"Isn't that what the expedition is for?" Snow asked skeptically. Lightning growled under her breath, and the slightly alarmed look on Hope's face hinted that he hadn't meant to broach the subject with everyone there, but he quickly stifled his reaction.

Instead, Hope replied, "That _is _what it's for, we just can't guarantee results. Alyssa's been working on this alternative in case the other options fail."

"Hold up," Sazh interjected, lifting his hands. "What's this about an expedition?"

Lightning could imagine how Hope wanted to slap himself – the cat was irretrievably out of the bag now. Serah's and Dajh's eyes were already wide with anticipation. Apparently accepting his fate, Hope released a long breath and straightened his shoulders in preparation.

"We're planning to fly an expedition inside Cocoon, right after the next power outage," Hope explained. "Maqui's been fitting radiance panels to the transport so we can scan the interior surface and get energy readings, and then we'll be dropping the team members onto zones with particularly high or low output to gather more information on-site. That's the long and short of it."

Snow also chipped in, his chest puffing out proudly, "And when he says team members, he's mostly talkin' about my guys – we already specialize in search and survey."

"Ah, well," Sazh relented as he clapped Hope on the shoulder, "Sounds like you won't be needin' a pilot, not between you and Maqui – good stuff to know, though."

Alyssa waved her hand toward Cocoon above them and added emphatically, "Of _course_ we need to track and analyze the pattern of weaker and stronger points, but it won't amount to anything if we can't get through the crystal. That's what I meant about finding a way to communicate."

"And how do you know that's even possible?" Lightning challenged, honestly hoping that her skepticism could be proven wrong.

Alyssa did not seem swayed in the least. "It's simple. Energy flows out of Cocoon, so why can't it be a two-way street? Practically all my research right now is dedicated to testing different mediums to try and transfer a message into the crystal pillar for a response. Obviously, I'll have a much better chance at seeing results from inside the shell, where all the people are frozen."

"But aren't they… dead?" Serah's soft voice speaking those words stunned the group into silence. Her second statement was equally shocking. "And what about the fal'Cie? Couldn't you accidentally disturb one of them instead?"

The calculating expression on Alyssa's face suggested that she was considering Serah's charges very seriously. "Everything we know right now is built on a bunch of assumptions," she asserted, hands on her hips. "It's equally possible that all the people are trapped in a dormant state like we think the fal'Cie are, and on that same reasoning you could speculate that every single life form in the shell is dead. The prevailing belief is still that the fal'Cie are dormant, since they're thought to be immortal and the current source of our power, and that the people are dead because the crystal would've smothered them."

Lightning took a few moments to really absorb her words. In the short time since she'd met Alyssa, it had become clear that gathering knowledge and questioning the so-called truth formed the core of her existence. The fact that her loyalties didn't seem to lie anywhere else was honestly a reassurance to Lightning, because wherever the heart of the matter was, Hope gravitated toward it, and he would need as many genuine allies as he could get.

"That isn't what _you_ believe though, is it?" Lightning asked, her words not actually a question. "Prevailing or not, you aren't buying it."

Alyssa met her eyes with an unwavering gaze, jaw set stubbornly. "I won't believe anything until I see proof."

* * *

Later that night, the long day's variety of conversations still buzzed like a swarm in Hope's heavy head despite his desire to be comforted by the pillow. His mind was fixated on Lightning's impending departure, on the threatening incident in the enclosure, and on the flood of speculation about why Fang and Vanille remained asleep. He tried flopping over onto his stomach and face-planting into the fluff, bringing his arms up around his ears to shut out the voices, but that was completely useless.

_How did it come to this? Just… can someone tell me why? Why is my life so out of control?_

As if to reply, Lightning's voice repeated in his head, _"Understanding why doesn't fix everything. It means the difference between being angry and being sad about what went wrong. That's all." _

Her calm, serious words marched through his consciousness - words that truly did resonate with experience, spoken out of her miserable condition that very same morning.

Lightning's word was her bond, and while that was infinitely comforting, it always left behind a nagging doubt in Hope's heart that he might not measure up to that same standard – she had never wavered in her resolve. He wondered if she ever truly felt fear or questioned if her actions would be enough.

He wondered if she ever felt out of control.

Rolling onto his left side to gaze out the window at Cocoon's glow was outright counterproductive – it made him consider again all the possible reasons Fang and Vanille hadn't awakened, the prime crisis he faced that he could do next to nothing about. The one and only time Hope had reached Lightning during her crystalstasis was in his coma, but even that contact wasn't what it took to bring her back to life. Whatever their friends required to awaken remained a wisp of a thing that slipped through his fingers every time he seemed close.

"This isn't helping," he groaned softly. Still staring at the bluish crystal shell as he sighed in defeat, Hope honestly wanted to know Lightning's secret to just shutting down for the night. The clock on the nightstand read a glaring 0024, reminding him again how little time they had left; it had taken Lightning less than twenty minutes to drift off once they returned to the room and hit the sheets, which was predictably late by the time the engineers finished repairing the stanchions. Had she been any other normal person, Hope would've put her ability down to gradually getting more tired while she waited with him in the enclosure, but she was far too well-trained from years of standing watch to let that get to her. She'd merely flipped the switch into sleep mode exactly when it was needed.

Envious, and once again torturing himself with thoughts about her, Hope decided to roll over and see if watching her sleep might convince his mind to disengage.

_Hasn't that helped me before? She always looks so peaceful…_

When he did face her, however, he was startled to see her icy eyes studying him in the darkness, their color intensified by the glow filtering in through the window.

"Did you give up?" Lightning asked, obviously alert.

Hope was struck dumb for a moment, and he blinked rapidly before his brain finally worked up an answer. "I-I'm still trying. I thought you were _long _gone."

"Understandable. I've got years of practice with fake-sleeping." Shifting closer so that she could share his pillow, Lightning added secretively, "Serah used to check on me in the middle of the night… obsessively. It only took one instance of making her cry when she caught me being an insomniac to teach me a lesson."

The concept was so like Serah that it made Hope chuckle. "She's always been kind of a mother hen, I see. Not surprising."

Smiling softly, Lightning nonetheless reverted to the issue at hand as she asked, "So what's your strategy to get to sleep? Counting mini-sheep?"

"Hmph, no. I never did understand that idea," Hope scoffed. He reached up and traced his fingertips along her jaw line, studying the face he knew all too well as her features shifted questioningly.

_Can't I keep you here like this?_

"I just thought… if I could watch you sleep, I'd follow right after."

"I'll need to invade your space for a while, then," Lightning replied, apparently pleased with his answer as she nestled her face against his neck and kissed him, her surrounding warmth and smell making him feel so complete that the chasm he'd ignored in his stomach yawned even wider than before, anticipating the loss.

"Hey, this is _our _space," he murmured into her hair, wrapping his arms protectively around her. "I'd much rather have you in it."

* * *

_I can't do this. I can't._

It was just before five in the morning, and despite the fact that Hope had begged her not to set her watch alarm before they went to bed, Lightning had no control over her internal clock. No longer able to sleep herself, she watched the slow rise and fall of his left shoulder as he breathed, fighting the desire to brush back the silvery wisps splayed across half his face. In that state, Hope struck her as the young and breakable boy who still needed her protection, no matter his age and no matter what anyone else, including Hope himself, thought about it. She was dying to reach out and touch him, to comfort him in some way, but she knew the well-intended gestures would only make facing the inevitable that much worse.

_I have to do this. I won't let myself cave, not now._

Lightning knew that the others would be up in an hour and calling their room, and she had her own agenda to keep. The germ of a plan had crossed her mind back in the transport, and as the day had worn into night, she became more and more certain that it was the right thing to do. She accepted that her actions would come across as selfish and possibly even cruel, but she didn't care – Hope needed to keep resting, and if he was going to come undone once they left, as she suspected, he at least deserved to be in the privacy of his own room. When he finally faced the day he needed to remember her by their close and peaceful moments together, not by some drawn out and saddening departure.

The very thought of seeing him force another round of reassuring smiles and fond wishes to see them all soon made her stomach twist up. She knew it was just a kindly meant farce – Hope had been unbearably honest in his sleep as usual, the essence of his dreams laid bare to her through his mumbled pleas for her not to go. If she had to face him again, fully awake, while his stifled pain was relegated to tainting the depths of his eyes, she wasn't sure how she would react.

For all of those reasons and more, Lightning carefully lifted herself from the pillow they shared and slipped quietly out from between the sheets, moving the second pillow into her former position in case he sought to cuddle with something. She had packed her rucksack the night before, but even if Hope wasn't a terribly deep sleeper, she wouldn't have had a problem packing, getting dressed and turning off the phone's ringer while barely making a sound. Just before leaving, though, she pulled out her battered notebook, tore a page free and took a few minutes to make a real attempt at explaining herself in writing, at the very least. Lightning placed the note under his communicator and silently made her way to the door.

The challenge came as she stood in the open doorway, casting a final glance toward his sleeping form. The urge to drop everything and go back to bed, to let their departure play out as expected with all its hugs and kisses and promises to call after landing, was so strong that it slammed Lightning's chest in a wave. But she held her ground, willed her feet to move forward with a shaky breath, and softly closed the door.

_Hope, maybe you'll hate me for this, but I love you too much to take the easy way out – to make everyone but you feel better. Please understand._

* * *

Gradually awakening, Hope was surprised at the noticeable lightening of the world beyond his closed eyes, and he hazily wondered how long Lightning had decided to let him sleep. He hadn't woken without an alarm in so long that he wanted to savor the experience. Automatically, he reached his hands out in search of her.

Something was there, but when his arms closed around the adjacent pillow instead of her body, an entirely different prospect crashed into his sleepy mind.

_They were leaving. Early. Surely she wouldn't… she wouldn't…_

Hope's eyes shot open, the rest of the bed quite obviously empty as it came into focus. He sat up with dizzying force and scanned the room, but there wasn't a trace of any other presence – Lightning's rucksack and clothes were nowhere to be found, the room's keycard centered perfectly on her nightstand. Not a single sound was audible from the bathroom, the kitchenette, or out in the hall.

For an agonizing stretch of minutes, Hope couldn't move and could barely breathe in the vacuum, his arms wrapped around his stomach as he fought off a sickening sensation that felt like his insides were caving in on themselves. There wasn't an inch of room for him to even be angry, not with every other emotion from doubt to self-loathing to crushing abandonment wreaking havoc on his body.

_Why? Why would she just _leave_ like this? Is it really that impossible for her to say goodbye? But Light's never done this before – never! _

_Maybe… she really is through dealing with me._

It took countless shuddering breaths and an overall clearing of his mind before Hope could process his situation with any level of rationality. When the panic finally did subside, he mulled everything over – every single, solitary detail from their two days together – and still came up struggling with himself over Lightning's disappearing act. Somewhere in the confusion of his mind, he wondered whether it would be a good idea to try calling her, or just calling one of the others. Reaching for his loaner comm unit on the nightstand, his hand also brushed the edges of a small piece of paper. Instantly, Hope dropped the communicator and held the note up, his eyes burning into the clean lines of her handwriting.

_'Hope,_

_I don't think there's any way for me to say this that will come out right. You know I hate goodbye scenes in the first place, but that isn't the reason I've decided to go earlier than planned - rest assured I've prepared an explanation for the others, too. I think you know how emotional Serah gets, and I can picture you trying to make us all feel better when we're the ones leaving. That isn't fair to you. I just want you to get some sleep and take care of yourself, for once._

_I'm sorry it hurts right now. Hopefully we won't have to wait so long to see each other again. I love you._

_- Light_

For a few dragging minutes, Hope just stared at the note in his hands as though Lightning might be magically conjured from her words alone, impossible as he knew that to be. From what he read, he could admit that her actions made sense on one level, in that strange way her reasoning sometimes did.

But even with all the false pain washed away by his understanding, a consuming emptiness was left. Hope couldn't muster an ounce of the necessary strength to get up, and he let his body sink back into the mattress. Still clinging to the note, he hugged the pillow tightly against his chest once more and hid his face from the morning, his paper-thin defenses unable to contain the muffled sobs that finally tore through. There was nothing left to block the rush of images from the previous days that mixed with years' worth of memories, their combined force surging in to fill the void in his head with nothing but Lightning.

_I know—I know I don't deserve her, but I really am going to love her for the rest of my life. And I miss her so much, damn it! Why can't I adapt, just long enough to do what I have to do? She's ten times stronger than this! I have to be at least that strong. I have to…_

_Because Light would never want me to give up. _ It was that final thought which eventually began to numb the ache in his chest, just enough to give way to the fog of unconsciousness again.

* * *

Some indeterminate amount of time later, Hope was pulled out of a restless half-sleep by his loaner comm unit beeping loudly, and he blindly reached toward the nightstand to snatch it up, flipping it open.

"Hello?" he said, his voice hoarse and hollow.

"Good morning, Director," Alyssa replied, the catch in her always-chipper greeting betraying surprise, likely at how lifeless he sounded. "I-I just needed to pass on a message. The colonel sent all the engineers home for the day, since half of them worked so late last night, and he wanted you to know they aren't expecting you today for the same reason."

The slightest twinge of gratitude told Hope that his heart was still in working order, and he cleared his throat to respond, "Thanks for letting me know. Call me if anything changes, alright?"

"Sure thing. See you tomorrow!"

"Yeah. See you." Hope snapped the communicator shut and tossed it limply across the bed, fully intent on wallowing for another hour or so. A light knock on the door unfortunately killed his plan, and he dragged himself out of bed and into the pile of his clothes on the floor.

"Just a sec!" he called, zipping his coveralls and crossing the room to jerk the door open. No one was there, but whoever it was had left his button-up shirt hanging on the door handle. It was covered in clear plastic, clean of the bloodstains, and neatly pressed. Hope groaned and shook his head at his own forgetfulness, suddenly remembering about the dry-cleaning service in housing that Miles had mentioned, and he realised that his shirt had to have been collected from the laundry chute sometime the previous day.

Hope took the hanger and closed the door again, well aware that he needed to change out of his wrecked and rained-on outfit sooner rather than later. Even after less than two days' break from his work uniform, pulling on the fitted pants and buttoning up the pristine shirt felt completely foreign, like wearing someone else's skin. He caught a glimpse of his reflection above the dresser and barely recognised the man staring back.

But he supposed that was fitting. He was not quite himself in a life without Lightning.

_I'm kidding myself if I think that will ever change._

* * *

Lightning tossed her rucksack into the corner of the relatively spacious barracks' room with an air of disinterest, dusting her hands and slumping back against a nearby dresser.

"Can't believe Snow's in town again," Lucil huffed in mock exasperation, following her into the room with a bundle of linens. "Seriously, you'd think the guy lived here or something."

"So he's a good father. Not that I'd contribute to his ego by saying anything, but he really is keeping his promise to take care of Serah," Lightning said quietly, her voice devoid of emotion as her eyes fixed on a small display of memorabilia arranged on the desk near the window. Among Lucil's precious things was a framed photograph of a much younger Hope and Maqui in the hangar, striking some goofy pose in front of the dilapidated transport BARTHOLOMEW.

_Hope was genuinely happy, wasn't he? In that life before I came back…_

She abruptly cut off that line of thinking, rambling on blankly, "And it was convenient timing for a visit – Snow just caught a ride with us. Sazh is going to drop him back off in a few days, on his next supply trip. The Cavalry outpost is even close enough for him to ride Snuggles in good weather conditions."

Tossing the linens onto the top bunk, Lucil crossed the room to stand squarely in the center of Lightning's field of vision, hands on her hips as she stared her down.

"Alright, Farron. I can tell a robot when I see one. And if you think you're going to creep around in my room – which is a single room, by the way – for goddess knows how long like you've left your soul back in the Settlement, I will slap some sense into you." When Lightning didn't respond except to blink mechanically at nothing, Lucil grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a slight shake.

"Will you say _something_ about your trip, already?"

Lightning finally looked up, but her expression did not change in the least. "If you're going to whine about this being a single room, why don't you get rid of the extra bunk?"

"Holy mother of—ugh, are you serious, Lightning?!" Lucil exclaimed, backing off to cross her arms in a huff. "You _know _I keep that bunk exclusively for situations like this! I'm just trying to get it through your thick skull that the person I like to room with and help out is my best friend, not some shell of a woman who happens to look like her."

The sinking premonition of confrontation over everything she didn't want to revisit bore down on Lightning like weights on her shoulders, and she was well aware that Lucil had the persistence to wear her down until she broke. She could not fool her friend, and she was already trapped. As her arms automatically wrapped around her stomach to hold herself together, all the words she'd refused to say threatened to erupt from her throat.

Lightning bit down on the inside of her cheek, lowering her eyes to the floor. "I'm a terrible person, Lucil. I just… I just _left _him. He probably wishes I'd never even gone to the Settlement."

"Wait—_what_?" Lucil asked in alarm, her questioning gaze only serving to intensify the sick feeling in Lightning's stomach. "What do you mean, _left _him? Surely you didn't—"

"No, _no_, of course not!" Lightning immediately corrected. "I mean I feel like I've abandoned him over there – I didn't even wake him up this morning. I just wrote him a note and _left_. I-I couldn't stand to see him smiling and pretending to be okay while we all flew off together as one big, happy family. Oh, except for you, Hope."

Taking her by the shoulders again, Lucil coaxed her into sliding down to the floor. She sat cross-legged across from Lightning and propped her face in her hands, stating matter-of-factly, "Well, it sounds like you were just being thoughtful. I'm sure Hope's smart enough to figure out what you were trying to do, especially if that note was more than, you know, three words long."

"Yeah," Lightning admitted, hugging her knees to her chest, "but he still woke up alone. I spent the whole flight back here ignoring my adorable little nephew climbing all over his parents, ignoring Sazh and Dajh chatting it up… only thinking about the look that must've been on Hope's face when he realised I was gone. I've seen that look, back in the Vile Peaks – it's lost and betrayed and begs to know why. Except I didn't even give him the chance to try and chase me down this time. He just… he was so peaceful, I couldn't…"

_I couldn't ruin it. That's how I wanted him to stay. _

_I'm such a fool._

Her voice choked off and she covered her mouth, because she wasn't going to sob through any additional details. Tears that had gathered in her eyes finally spilled over and trailed silently down her cheeks, not really offering any relief. Lucil let her be for a couple of minutes, not making a move or uttering a word until Lightning seemed to come back to herself with a shake of her head, hastily swiping her hands over her cheeks.

"Light, listen to me for a second," Lucil began carefully, smiling below the intent concern in her eyes. "Hope's gonna be fine – he waited five years for you to wake up, so trust me when I say he can take this. The instant he's finished that project, he'll jump right into the transport and fly here without a second thought."

"Lucil, it's a lot more complicated than that…" Lightning began, hoping to explain some of the convoluted mess of Hope's obligations.

"Oh no it isn't," Lucil interjected. "He loves you more than anything or anyone else in this world. That makes it _very _simple. Nothing's too complicated for a bond like that."

In that instant, something clicked in Lightning's mind – something that surpassed all the anguish and loneliness that had plagued her day, leapt over the beautiful moments of contentedness from the previous night, and landed squarely on the serious discussion about Fang and Vanille in the enclosure. Or more precisely, on the simple suggestion Dajh had made about Hope's father having just one person he was living for.

Suddenly, she knew exactly why their friends had not awakened.

_They love each other more than anyone else in the world. Nothing less than that is necessary to stop the crystalstasis, is it? But they're both trapped._

The thought cut into her like a double-edged sword, the futility of Fang and Vanille's situation a terrible realisation but still a poignant reminder of what they had. Of what she had, too. It was hers long before she even returned to the world of the living, and it was no longer something Lucil and Serah and Snow just teased her about, how Hope had loved her practically since he'd met her – it was undeniable. She had no idea why, but she did have proof.

"Light? Hey, what's wrong?" Lucil's voice, accompanied by the sharp snap of her fingers, broke through Lightning's thoughts,.

The sensation of her heart restarting overwhelmed her, and Lightning had to take a couple of steadying breaths. It wasn't that she stopped missing Hope just like that, but the more she dwelled on Lucil's words and what they really meant, the more her chest filled up to counter the emptiness. Against everything she thought possible, Lightning cracked a smile.

"Nothing. You're just right, as usual."

Mirroring her expression, Lucil slapped her leg and got to her feet. "Ha, you know it! Now go wash your face or something while I scrounge up some coffee. You look like hell."

* * *

The long, busy days dragged by, chock full of paperwork and training exercises that didn't seem to be doing their usual job of keeping Lightning's mind from wandering off. Three times during the week she had discovered typos in her own memorandums, and twice she'd written the wrong name on formal counselings. That was unacceptable.

Now, sitting in the homey warmth of Serah's kitchen, she was trying to let those piddley concerns drown in a cup of coffee. It was Sunday morning – her only day off and her special day to have breakfast with her sister while Milo had a babysitter. It was not a time to waste thinking about work.

_Or Hope. Or the fact that I need more than five days to get him out of my head enough to concentrate on menial tasks._

Of course, it didn't help that she hadn't been able to call him. Lightning knew that his comm unit was still broken – it hadn't connected or even rung when she tried – but she didn't know the number of his borrowed unit. She couldn't blame Hope for not calling her, either. In her estimation, he more than deserved a cool down period.

"Sis, that's going to get cold if you don't hurry up and drink it," Serah remarked as she took a seat opposite, the worry wrinkling her brow a clear indication that she wanted an explanation for her spacey sibling.

Shaking her head as she sat up straight, Lightning took a long gulp. Sure enough, it was already lukewarm.

"I'm sorry, Serah. A lot on my plate this week. I'm already forgetting how to relax in this place."

Serah propped her chin in her hand. "Doesn't look like your usual 'work stuff is bugging me' brood. What's really going on?"

"You're a very nosy little sister, you know that?" Lightning replied with a dry laugh, rocking her coffee cup to swirl the remaining liquid and sugar around. "But I guess I owe you for the waffles. I'll spill the beans if you promise to leave my business out of your pillow talk with Snow."

Sighing, Serah leaned her cheek heavily into her hand and pouted. "No issue, there. He left with Sazh pretty early this morning."

"Oh," Lightning said, feeling ashamed of herself for forgetting the date of his departure. "I'm sorry."

Serah immediately reacted to her change in demeanor with a smile and a rushed, "Oh no, it's fine! He'll come by again really soon! And I usually get back into a nice routine with Milo in just a few days, so it's not a big deal." She didn't leave any room for refute as she stood from her place, gathering both of their mugs to take them to the sink.

As she rinsed them, she rattled off, "So I saw Yuj today – he told me some interesting news when he came by to take Milo to the chocobo ranch."

"So_ that's _where the little chubster went," Lightning remarked lightly, relieved to have moved on from the previous topic. She pushed herself up from her seat and joined her sister at the sink, taking a dish at a time to dry and set them on a cup towel.

"What was this news, anyway?"

"Something about Maqui's connectivity issues," Serah began, shutting off the faucet and drying her hands. "Yuj said he got a call yesterday over the GC's dedicated emergency line – apparently the main outgoing tower's been down near the Settlement. He wanted me to let you know."

Lightning paused in her task, her fingers tightening around the mug she held. "Did he happen to say why?"

"Why? Well that's obvious. Have you heard from Hope at all this week?" Serah asked, her expression strongly reminiscent of Lucil's patented 'stupid question' look.

"Not why Yuj wanted you to tell me, I meant why the tower was down," Lightning retorted in mild frustration, rubbing her finger and thumb between her eyebrows. "And no, I haven't heard from Hope."

Serah turned her entire body and propped her hands on her hips. "Yuj didn't say why it was down – probably just another effect of that storm. But didn't you think Hope not calling was a teensy bit strange, Sis? I'm surprised you didn't bring it up sooner."

This was not the direction Lightning wanted their conversation to take. She shrugged noncommittally, finishing up the last of the dish drying as she hoped in vain for Serah to let the subject drop.

Clearing her throat pointedly, Serah tried again, "Sis, why did_ you_ think Hope wasn't calling?"

"Well, his comm unit's broken," Lightning mumbled, absently moving on to stow the dishes within the upper cabinets.

"Like that would've stopped him," Serah huffed, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. "He could've repaired a silly little communicator in under an hour, probably blindfolded. If not, he would've borrowed someone else's to call, and you know it. So would you just give me a straight answer already?"

The heat of aggravation and guilt had been building under Lightning's skin until she could no longer take it, and she smacked the mug in her hands onto the counter with startling force.

"I think he's mad at me, okay?" she ground out, her eyes fixated on the small chip she'd knocked out of the mug's base. "And he has every right to be, so I assumed he needed some space. Is that a good enough answer for you?"

A few tense moments passed before Lightning heard her sister take a deep breath, letting it out with slow resignation. "I _knew_ it," she stated quietly. "There's only one reason I can think of for Hope to be that upset, and that means you _lied _to me, Claire Elizabeth Farron. The morning we left the Settlement, you said he needed to get more sleep before he had to get up for work, and that you'd said your goodbyes the night before. That wasn't true, was it?"

"He did need to sleep," Lightning countered weakly, "but no, we didn't settle things the night before."

"So what, then? You just got up and decided to leave him be, assuming he would understand?" Serah's scrutinizing stare was burning into the side of Lightning's head, and even if she'd wanted to face her sister, she just couldn't move under the shame.

"I left him a note," she muttered, almost inaudibly.

Her answer was followed by a suffocating silence.

Strangely, Serah's airy giggles were the first sound to break through, and Lightning automatically snapped her head toward her in disbelief.

"How exactly is this funny?"

"Oh, it's really not," Serah said, controlling her giggles. "It's just that I've been there and done that with Hope before – he's never taken too well to other people deciding his actions for him,_ believe _me. But you know, he's not fifteen anymore, and you're not his meddling sister, so I have a feeling he's already forgiven you. I mean it."

"I don't want his forgiveness, Serah." Lightning let the quiet words hang in the air as she breezed past her sister and headed up the stairs. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, but she felt an overwhelming need to escape the confining space of the basement kitchen Hope had designed himself.

_I want him here with me. That's all._

Lightning's wandering soon led her out the backdoor and into the yard – now a proper family yard, green and tidy after years of landscaping work on the part of Serah and the NORA gang. Recently, they had built a swingset for Milo, and it was one of those small wooden seats that now called to her. She slumped onto the swing, staring out at nothing as she irrationally wondered if her communicator might suddenly come to life. Automatically, her hands fished into her shorts pockets, and her fingers brushed the edge of something unexpected. Lightning sat up at rigid attention.

_That letter! I completely forgot about it._

She hastily pulled out the paper and unfolded it, finally discovering Gwen's purpose for writing it as she read over the rain-smudged, bubbly cursive:

_'Hope,_

_Sorry if I should've called you Mr. Estheim, or Director Estheim, or something more proper in a letter, but it looked snooty to me on paper when I tried it out. And anyway, if you're even READING this thing at all it's pretty impressive, since I honestly don't know how I'll get it to you – it's not like I see you around much._

_But that's not really important. I wanted to write this down so I'd definitely be able to thank you and your friends for saving my big brother. You probably don't even remember meeting Clasko, but back when I was little and those sentries tried to arrest you after that crash in the square, my brother was one of the protestors in the crowd who got taken in. We didn't see him for years, and for a while I thought you might've even ended up in prison with him. When he came home right after the armistice, he told me and Mom about how you found him there in the mines while looking for your father, and how this soldier with pink hair named Lightning wiped out a bunch of guards and led him and some prisoners to safety. You know, he's always been kind of a nervous guy, but he was so impressed that he went and joined the Corps right after he returned to the Settlement! He said he wanted to make a real difference._

_He also said you and Lightning would end up together. I guess that's true, if Mom's gossip and all the tavern talk can be trusted. If it can, I'm really happy you married someone who isn't afraid to fight for a good cause, just like you. I don't understand these representatives – that's what Mom calls them – who say mean things about you sometimes. _ _They bash PSICOM a lot, and I don't really care about that, but I wish they'd leave you out of it. I wanna yell back at them! I mean, is it true that you already helped set up some backup energy system, but PSICOM uses it for their own stuff instead of letting businesses or the hospital use it? That seems to be their favorite thing to talk about, and they've tried several times to get Mom to sign petitions or rally the tavern employees for protests._

_Sorry for all the questions, but I'd like to know what's going on so maybe I could help Mom. Plus, we really owe you for finding Clasko – the last thing we'd want to do is join some protest against PSICOM and end up attacking you. I guess what I'm really saying is that you've still got friends in the Settlement. So drop by sometime!_

_Your friend,_

_Gwen'_

Lightning's knuckles whitened as she clamped her fingers tightly on the letter's edges, near infuriated by Gwen's mention of the hassling representatives. She knew immediately that they were from the Public Council, and intense concern washed over her again for Hope's safety in that hostile environment.

But behind her indignation and worry lay a seed of doubt that she couldn't quite ignore. When Gwen had written about the backup energy system, she could make a solid guess about what was being referenced. There was certainly such a wind-powered system, and from what she had come to understand in conversations with Hope, it was used exclusively to energize the stanchions and rods that would repel Cocoon in the event of collapse.

In other words, it was an entire system that produced energy and sat idle, waiting to be activated during blackouts on the off-chance that the pillar would eventually crumble. She could actually see how, from an outside perspective, people might question the use of that sorely needed resource in a project that seemed to have its basis in pure speculation. Lightning couldn't quite wrap her head around the Council's intense concern over running people's businesses, but the idea of a hospital suddenly without power struck a chord with her. That would be a matter of life and death, as she knew all too well. Nearly half her lifetime ago, on the anniversary of their father's death, the nurses had honored their mother's written Will and shut off the life-sustaining equipment attached to her... and there was no bringing her back. Her lungs couldn't work on their own.

_How many people might die just like that, during an extended power outage?_

Lightning was aware that the hospital did have a limited backup generator, as it had activated on the night of Milo's birth, but it now occurred to her that Cocoon's eventual shut-down – with or without physical collapse – would quickly spell the end of many lives once the hospital had no power left. She wondered what Serah would have to say about that kind of imminent crisis.

Or more appropriately, she wondered what Ann would have to say about it.

The soft swish of her sister's approaching footsteps on the grass prompted Lightning to hurriedly fold and stash Gwen's letter in her pocket, but thankfully Serah merely raised a curious brow as she took a seat in the adjacent swing.

"So… are you feeling any better? I made more coffee…"

"I'm fine," Lightning mumbled, kicking at the dirt underfoot and regaining her focus. "But you know, I didn't get the chance to ask you – how's Ann doing lately?"

Serah shook her head and blinked rapidly, absorbing the sudden change in subject before she replied, "Oh, well, it's definitely hectic running a hospital, but I think she feels fulfilled with the job. Since the mass vaccination wiped out the spread of the Focus virus, they've only got a handful of relapse patients left working through the end of their recovery. She seemed really pleased to have more time and resources to devote to improving all the specialized clinics in the place – especially pediatrics."

"So she didn't mention any particular challenges, lately? Maybe about not having a good enough backup generator?" Lightning pressed.

At that point, Serah began to nervously rock in her swing. "Not exactly that, but she was concerned about the power. I guess they've been struggling with fluctuations in the supply recently – not just around black-outs, either. Sometimes the lights will dim or different equipment will shut off for a few seconds at random. A good tech like Maqui would say that's bad for the equipment, for one, and Ann's worried that it's starting to make the staff and the patients panic."

_This is worse than I thought. The Council wouldn't even need a serious incident like another black-out to rally support for a protest from hospital workers._

"Surely they've brought this up with someone at Central," Lightning suggested cautiously. She knew deep down that an issue that serious couldn't be easily dismissed, not if Hope or the colonel ever got wind of it.

Surprisingly, Serah sighed and slumped down as she explained, "Ann said they've lodged a few different formal complaints, and every time PSICOM did send a crew of electricians to check all the main power connections, test the equipment, and so on, but there was nothing they could do to fix it. She's pretty convinced by now that the only way those fluctuations will stop is if the hospital can run on a separate power supply."

"And did she think that was even possible?" Lightning asked, trying to sound casual about her interest. So far, Serah didn't seem to suspect that she knew more than she was letting on.

"Yeah, she did," Serah said simply. "I guess it must be a big undertaking to do that, though. Ann sounded doubtful about it actually happening, but she wouldn't go into details. She kind of changed the subject at that point." Digging in her heels, Serah pushed herself back and began to swing in earnest, still chatting as she did so.

"Makes me feel really lucky to be running the little clinic out here. Her work just sounds too complicated."

At that concession, Lightning could only nod.

_Everything's gotten too complicated._

She joined her sister in swinging, her mind mapping out the safest and fastest route to getting Hope the information about the hospital. It was clear that Ann and the staff were vulnerable to being sucked into another protest by the Council, which could include any number or variety of threatening demonstrations. Lightning had to trust that if Hope or Miles could find a solution for the hospital first, they might avoid an incident entirely. The immediate challenge was a communication barrier between herself and her contacts in the Settlement, which may or may not have been part of the Council's plans – in any case, she knew Yuj had some form of access to emergency transmissions.

Deciding on a plan of action, Lightning launched herself from the swing and into the grass.

* * *

**Endnote: Beta-roomie didn't leave as many notes as usual since she had to hurry, but I've got a few little bits for you all anyway :D**

When Lightning wonders about why Hope had been the only one to awaken and help Serah:** "BUT HE'S WHAT SHE REALLY NEEDED! 8} or something."**

After Sazh points out that he doesn't buy Serah not being desperate enough:** "I *heart* U SAZH. GOOD POINT."**

When Alyssa comes up to say they're barking up the wrong tree:** "In my mind, she's saying, "Or maybe you're all full of sh*t. :P"**

As Hope glares at Alyssa for suggesting that they plan to care extra hard:** "wow, Hope gets pissy really easily when someone questions him, doesn't he?"**

After Light jokingly references new developments to understand crystalstasis:** "hahaha yes. That is now a science"**

At Lightning's thought that Hope strikes her as the boy who still needed her protection:** "awww~"**

When Light explains to Lucil how she didn't want them leaving Hope like one big happy family:** "okay that is sad :("**


	10. Stop, Drop, Roll

**A/N: Look who's back on schedule! A big thank-you to reviewers from last chapter, though I get the feeling there are still a number of readers who haven't realised I started updating again after the holiday hiatus :P Hope to hear from you guys this chapter! Sorry about the somewhat gloomy turn – please bear with me through a little more seriousness and I PROMISE things will lighten up a bit next time… Now, to the anons:**

**LawMan – So sorry to have kept you (along with everyone else) hanging for so long! I'm glad life as you know it has resumed :D**

**Terra7 – Thank you so much! It really DOES suck like that, believe me 0.0 You cannot breathe. And I was just as happy to be writing Lucil again as people were to read her!**

**** All, I've updated the song list due to an oversight on my part - I accidentally listed one song that I'd already used. You'll find one from Keane and one from Tegan and Sara instead. Check it out and enjoy! (9FEB2013)**

[Songs for Chapter 10: "Blister" - Our Lady Peace; "A Lack of Color" - Death Cab for Cutie; "Crystal Ball" - Keane; "Mad Season" - Matchbox Twenty; "Come Back Home" - Two Door Cinema Club; "Soil, Soil" - Tegan and Sara]

Stop, Drop, Roll

In retrospect, Hope concluded that he'd just endured the most trying week of his adult life. He'd dropped into near depression with the departure of his family, even as he oversaw continuous testing after the massive repair job on the stanchions and assisted the colonel in reorganizing a new fireworks display. Worst of all, he'd lost communications with most of his support structure in the midst of everything. If it hadn't been for Maqui's incessant nagging and Miles' absolute refusal to leave him alone, he felt certain he would've starved to death or inadvertently died on the job from lack of sleep, not living to see another Saturday.

Even now, it was thanks to his two meddling friends that he'd ended up on a cot in the back of the transport, laid out like a corpse. Hope wasn't at all surprised to have come down with something – whatever it was didn't really even need a name, though the general consensus was a nasty cold. He was so exhausted that he could barely function, which had been Miles' reasoning for sending him away from Central.

"Man, I know I've teased you about it before, but right now you _really _look like a ghost," Maqui said from beside the cot as he helped him to sit up. Hope vaguely noticed that a canteen had been placed in his hands again, and he lifted it for a drink. It seemed to take a monumental effort just for that small motion – his limbs felt dead and barely even attached. Besides, the water wasn't making his throat any less sore.

"It's like swallowing gravel," Hope muttered. "I can't believe I managed to catch a cold in the summer. Why does everything have to suck so much _right now_, all at once?" As if to punctuate the misery, he was suddenly overtaken by rapid-fire sneezing, followed up with several coughs.

"Life sucks sometimes, genius. Just take these and stop talking, or you're gonna make it worse." Maqui dumped two tablets into his palm, which Hope choked down without question. He guessed they were some mixture of decongestant, expectorant, and pain reliever, as any common cold pack from a medical unit would contain. PSICOM's first aid station at Central was essentially no different from those he'd been around with the Guardian Corps.

Snatching a tissue, Hope mentally thanked Alyssa again for depositing the small box of them in his hands on his way out of the facility. Nasal congestion was beginning to build, and he didn't want to be constantly sniffling or sound like he had a clothespin on his nose once communications could be reestablished with Lightning and the others.

_She might think I've been crying. I'm not sure what's worse – the embarrassment of my wife assuming I've dissolved into a blubbering mess, or the shame of making her worry once she knows I'm sick. Damn it all._

"Well, I'm off!" Maqui called across the cabin, slinging a bag of tools over his shoulder. "Should have the tower completely online in a few hours, barring interference."

Hope rolled onto his side and fixed his friend with a look of pointed concern. "Are you sure this is safe? Security forces haven't had time to track down whoever's responsible for breaking the tower in the first place, and they might just be watching for us to repair it."

"Oh, relax already. We've got a dozen armed guards posted on-site," Maqui scoffed. "The most any troublemakers could do is to slow me down on the way there, and I doubt that's gonna happen. I'm not exactly a high-profile target." With that, he swung open the hatch and started down the ladder.

Sitting up abruptly, Hope half-climbed, half-fell off the cot, stumbled across the cabin and stuck his head out of the open hatch to call down hoarsely, "Maq, you're _sure_ you don't want me to help?"

From the ground, Maqui waved off the offer. "Nah, you'd just draw attention to us, no doubt about it. Definitely more harm than good. Just go to sleep and dream about Lightning, or whatever it is that makes you feel warm and fuzzy."

Hope laughed and coughed as he waved goodbye, but the premonition hit him again once he'd closed the hatch that something felt wrong about the entire operation. The memory of the smoke bomb from the enclosure was still fresh in his mind, and that had been just one instance of the Council's tactics deviating from their normal pattern. The second instance – even though it wasn't definitively tied to the Council just yet – was the disruption of communications through the main tower outside the Settlement. Only a single emergency line from within Central had been able to connect with GC forces at Aerma Proper since it was discovered that no calls were making it out of the Settlement, and that had been through sheer luck that the signal was carried to a more distant tower thanks to atmospheric conditions.

For three days straight, both PSICOM and GC security forces had been investigating the problem, bringing Maqui and a handful of others in Communications on the scene to assess the damage to the tower. According to Maqui, it had first appeared that a passing wyvern might have damaged the antennas atop the tower, but upon closer inspection, random cuts in the cabling throughout betrayed a human culprit. The armed guards that now stood at the tower were just the most recent rotation of a twenty-four hour watch established since that discovery.

And while Hope could acknowledge that as a comfort, he still didn't feel at ease. The smoke bomb and other projectiles launched into the enclosure on the Day of Celebration had made it over and into Central, arguably the most secure facility on Pulse, completely unanticipated, so there was nothing saying the Council couldn't manufacture an attack that would elude a group of soldiers with weapons.

His mind still limping along frantically, Hope rolled around on the cot until he couldn't take it anymore. He sat up again and dialed Maqui's communicator.

The line came alive after a single ring. "Dude, I'm not even out of the warehouse district yet!" Maqui complained.

"Could you just do me a favor and keep an eye out for anything suspicious?" Hope pleaded. "You know, people hanging around that shouldn't be, odd-looking fixtures stuck to the tower… anything that might be out of place. And get out of there if you do see something weird, okay? Please?"

Sighing heavily into his communicator, Maqui conceded, "Fine, I'll sweep the place first - as if the guards didn't already have the sense to do it. Now stop being paranoid!"

"Got it. Can you call me in an hour so I know it's still going alright?"

"Hope, go to sleep!" The order was followed by abrupt disconnection.

_But I can't. I haven't been able to really sleep in days…_

Again, Hope tossed and turned on the cot for a while, every concern from the past week spinning endlessly in his mind. His body had taken enough, however, and it wasn't long before exhaustion plunged him into a dark realm where his thoughts could warp into nightmares instead.

* * *

"Yuj! I need to talk to you!" Lightning huffed, finally catching her breath after her sprint across base and out to the chocobo ranch. She'd spied his mass of blue hair as soon as the fence line came into view.

Yuj simply turned and lounged against a wooden post, waving toward her. She could see Milo toddling around just inside a small pen separated from the rest of the field, unsuccessfully trying to catch the chocobo chicks kept there. Dajh was with him, squatted down as he showed the child how to properly hold and pet one of the chicks.

"And what brings you all the way out here, Miss Lightning?" Yuj greeted from his post when she approached. "I'd venture it isn't to pet the chocobos."

Lightning crossed her hands behind her neck, briefly walking off the run, and shook her head. "Serah told me about the tower in the Settlement. Since you're the only one who's gotten any communications in days, I assumed you'd be capable of sending a message back."

"What kind of message would be important enough for that? You know I'm not authorized to just transmit unofficial chatter between lovers, I'm sure. Not even for my friends." He smirked at his own joke, unfazed by her lack of any visible reaction.

"As if I'd trust you with that sort of message," Lightning deadpanned. "What I've got in mind has more to do with a possible protest that Hope and the Central leadership need to be warned about."

Yuj cocked his head to one side, eyeing her skeptically. "And how exactly do you know about something like that?"

"It's just a theory, built on a combination of some things Serah told me and this letter's contents." Lightning pulled the paper from her pocket and handed it over, beyond caring that it was a personal letter for Hope that he likely wouldn't have wanted spread around. The necessity of getting him an accurate message definitely trumped that minor concern.

Reading it over quickly, Yuj laughed once. "Precious. So now he's getting tips from a little admirer. I'll take the credit for that, thank you."

"What are you talking about?" Lightning asked, a tad irritated by his choice of words despite not actually feeling threatened by the shy teenage girl who obviously meant no harm.

The look on his face suggested that she should've known precisely what he meant, but Yuj went on to explain, "I designed his new outfit. I'm sure you found it attractive yourself, now didn't you?"

"I don't see how that's relevant," Lightning growled, but Yuj just laughed it off again.

"You're welcome," he said, dipping his head in a bow and easily transitioning back to the topic at hand. "Now in this bit Gwen mentioned about protestors… which group of people are you specifically concerned about taking action? What did Serah say?"

Lightning took a deep breath and released it, shifting her stance. "You might want to take this down. If we're sending an emergency message, we can't afford to miss anything important."

"As you wish." Somehow, Yuj produced a small notepad and pen from a pocket in his nearly skin-tight pants and prepared to write. "Baralai always was a stickler for attention to detail anyway, and he's going to want to screen this thoroughly before approving a transmission."

"Understood. Just make sure he knows the urgency involved here."

* * *

Hope had no idea how long he'd slept, but the loud, crackling sound of fireworks exploding above the Settlement finally roused him from another nightmare about a bomb shattering the crystal pillar. He opened his bleary eyes to near complete darkness in the cabin, groaning as he forced himself upright. His throat still felt like sandpaper and his head seemed to carry a brick instead of his brain – it was a battle for him to think back to his most recent concerns.

_I should call someone. I want to call Light... no, the tower's down. I need to call Maqui._

Fumbling around to grab his loaner comm unit, Hope dialed the number and waited patiently. It rang continuously for probably a minute before he determined that Maqui might not have heard its beeping over the fireworks, from wherever he was currently.

Hope knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep, not until he could get some closure about the tower repairs, so he gave up. The desire to at least catch a glimpse of the display he'd helped reorganise finally drove him from his cot and to the hatch, which he promptly opened wide. With careful but awkward movements, he swung onto the rungs that ran along the hull and climbed slowly to the top of the transport, plopping down on the warm metal. Colorful blooms continually illuminated the southern sky, near enough to the residential district for easy viewing but not so close as to pose a threat of fires there.

One by one they trailed upward and burst into thousands of glittering particles, and for a beautiful moment Hope was taken back to a similar scene on a clear Bodhum night with his mother. He knew it was childish to want to cast his dearest wish into the impassive sky - it wasn't as if his last one had been heeded. If anything, it seemed the universe had laughed in his face for wishing that his family could be there together. He'd lost his mother permanently after that fateful night.

But his tired mind couldn't help sifting through the mix of his desires until it could settle on a single wish that took priority.

_Is it too much for me to want us _all _to finally be together? I mean, I've got a lot more going well for me than many people since the fall. I still have family, and I've actually gained friends... not to mention a wife who loves me._

_No small miracle, there._

Hope watched the fireworks a while longer, despite knowing that an answer from above would not be forthcoming - not for him, and not for Fang and Vanille. Eventually, he lay on his side and observed the show from that different angle, resting his heavy head on the crook of his arm.

When one of the brilliant mortars launched parallel to the horizon along his line of vision, Hope was momentarily confused. He shrugged it off as a trick of his tired eyes and rubbed them for good measure. It was when he saw a second, and then a third launching in that same manner that he suddenly became alarmed. Hope pushed himself upright and let his vision settle, staring intently southward. Sure enough, a fourth mortar twinkled westward across the sky rather than directly up, and this time he could make out the tiniest pop of its contact with some structure in the distance. The sound was chased by a bright flare of sparkles and flames.

_The tower! I know it's out that way - this can't be a coincidence._

Panicked, Hope dug his trembling hands into his pockets for his comm unit and struggled to dial Maqui's number. Over and over it rang, the time stretching and suspending him as his heart raced, but nothing came of the call. There was only one course of action left to him.

As quickly as he could manage without falling, Hope climbed down the two ladders and stumbled off toward the main communications tower outside the edge of the Settlement. He wanted badly to run, but a slow jog was the best he could do against the fatigue still dragging him down. With every heavy step, the same phrase repeated over in his head.

_Please be okay, Maqui. Please..._

* * *

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of staggering along, Hope made it to the southern edge of the Settlement. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the patches of flame spiking out from a few points on and around the tower - the minimal appearance of the damage provided momentary comfort, but he was far from at ease. Rushing forward again, Hope was forced to a halt when he hit the wall of guards surrounding the structure.

An insistent hand pressed back against his chest. "Sir, I have to ask you to leave this area. It isn't safe, and we don't need any curious onlookers."

"No, you don't understand!" Hope pleaded, shakily pulling out his identification badge from where it was tucked in his shirt. "I need to know if there have been any casualties - one of my colleagues was working in there."

Huffing in aggravation, the stubborn GC sergeant still would not budge. "Listen, Director - several of _my _colleagues are out here, too, trying to get this situation under control. I can get you a status report, but you're gonna have to stay back and wait around for a while, got it?"

Hope nodded once, not trusting his voice any further and certainly not wanting to lose what little favor he held to gain information. The delay tortured him with a terrible, nerve-wracking sensation that he hadn't felt since the many life-or-death incidents surrounding the military conflict years ago, and he couldn't stop wringing his hands or unglue his eyes from the small patches of flame on the tower. Somewhere in the midst of the chaos of soldiers rushing around to put out the fire and assist the workers, Maqui had to be okay. He just had to be.

* * *

The good thing about sending Yuj to sell her information to soon-to-be Captain Baralai was that Lightning didn't have to deal with the formalities or the paperwork. Unfortunately, it also meant that she had to wait around for a report from Yuj to know whether they would transmit her message or not.

So far, she'd tried a variety of strategies to cope with the wait - a cleansing run around the practice field, a brief workout in the small gym next to the barracks, and now she'd even succumbed to Lucil's request for a friendly sparring match.

After the end of the third round, Lightning swiped an arm across her sweaty forehead and eyed Lucil shrewdly, both of them breathing heavily from the hard-fought match that had ended in a draw.

"Is this... really what you wanted to do for fun... on your day off?" Lightning asked between breaths, reverting her blade to gun form and holstering it.

Shaking her head, Lucil finally recovered enough to let out a mocking laugh. "Oh right... since my only form of recreation is hitting the bar?" She absently tugged on her long, red ponytail, tossing it back over her shoulder in annoyance. "On second thought, there_ is _something else I'd like to do today. What would you think about me getting this flaming mane chopped off?"

"Doesn't really matter what I think," Lightning remarked lightly. "Would Maqui have an issue with it?"

Lucil just shrugged and stretched out her overtaxed limbs. "I'd do it anyway - blondie loves a good surprise. Besides, I can't exactly call and ask him right now."

Eyes narrowed, Lightning caught her arm in a firm grip and charged, "So you know about the tower being down, don't you? I haven't heard a single complaint out of you all week about not getting calls."

"Hey, I figured you knew!" Lucil retorted, twisting her arm free. "You've been pretty scarce this week, and you haven't said one word about Hope not calling, either! I only found out about the tower because Yuj was talking to Lebreau about it at the Vestige the other night, and I asked him what was up. Maybe if you got out and socialized more often, you'd have better situational awareness."

"Maybe I've got more important things to do with my time." Lightning spun on her heel and headed for the door without another word, fully intent on hiding out somewhere until she got the long-anticipated call from Yuj. She just didn't feel like explaining all the urgent details of the situation to Lucil when her nerves were in such a frayed condition.

"Wait up!" Lucil called after her, hot on her heels with that persistence she was so known for. "Don't get all offended - you know I'm just picking on you because I wish you'd have more fun with your life. Besides... I was hoping you could help me track down Yuj about maybe getting a haircut." She tugged insistently on the strap of Lightning's gunblade, but Lightning still refused to turn around.

Sighing, she replied dryly, "Have you tried just calling him about it?"

"Yeah, but he isn't picking up. I guess he's still busy with the communications situation or something."

Lightning jerked away and continued on, walking out onto the sun-baked practice field as she asked over her shoulder, "Then what on Pulse makes you think he'd have time to cut your hair?"

"Hey, he might need a break," Lucil said casually. "He's always saying fashion nonsense is therapeutic for him." She had quickened her pace until she was striding along beside Lightning, and the two of them automatically turned onto a route that would take them directly to Baralai's office at the communications hub - no further discussion was needed to make the decision. Both of them had their own reasons for tracking down Yuj, and Lightning silently thanked whatever goddess was responsible that it saved her explaining anything.

Maybe, if her luck held out, she could get an answer from Yuj directly.

* * *

The minutes seemed to tick by like hours as Hope waited, coughing and sniffling, for a status report, all the while watching soldiers spray out the small flames around the tower with extinguishers. Although the fire damage had apparently been minimal, the smoke produced from the few areas of burning electrical parts and dry brush on the ground covered the entire zone in a haze.

Checking his watch, Hope noted dismally that his sensation of endless waiting had been a mere half hour in reality. He took a breath to try and calm himself, only to cough even more from the smoke.

_Maker, can they not release those workers from the area yet? Are they treating them all for smoke inhalation somewhere, and they just didn't bother to tell me? Surely they would've said something if they were carrying people away on stretchers..._

That thought was too disturbing. Hope shook his head furiously to be rid of it, and concentrated instead on trying to see the situation through the haze again. He was so wrapped up in attempting to distinguish the different people scurrying around near the tower - hoping in vain to spot Maqui - that he didn't notice the approach of someone else until he was clapped on the shoulder.

Startled, Hope jumped back, spun toward the person, and coughed violently in surprise. He recognised the man as as the guard from before.

"A-any news?" Hope asked with trepidation.

"Just come with me," the sergeant replied sternly. "You'll have to see for yourself how your colleague is doing - I don't know any of those comms guys from Adam, but I can at least say they're all alive." Swiftly turning, he marched off toward a cluster of soldiers and vehicles in the distance, between the north side of the tower and the edge of the Settlement.

Hope hurried his steps to follow, not really knowing how to respond - on the one hand, he was beyond thankful that no one was killed, but on the other hand he couldn't be sure about the extent of injuries suffered. His fears only built upon themselves the closer they came to the site, which was clearly an emergency first aid station. Several uniformed GC personnel wearing medical patches rushed about with supplies, shoving past Hope to treat burns on a couple of workers to his right, or mobilizing a stretcher far to his left. One unknown person was even being hauled onto the back of a velocycle and raced away from the scene. Something about the sight froze Hope in place, and he couldn't seem to make his body move a step further.

"Sir?" a muffled voice sounded nearby, seemingly far away. "Sir!" Suddenly, the familiar sergeant was in his face, shaking him by the shoulders. "Director, you need to identify your colleague before they start moving everyone to the ward, or you won't see him for a while."

Nodding through his temporary incoherence, Hope finally found clarity in yet another series of wracking coughs. He cleared his scratchy throat and shook himself. "Okay. I-I'll look around."

One by one, Hope glanced over the communications workers, electricians, and soldiers who had been in the line of fire, some merely dazed with no more than minor scratches, and others patched with bandages. Eventually, his wandering took him by a row of three men laid out on stretchers, awaiting transportation from the field. The shredded ends of one pair of pants caught his attention - _Maq never bothered hemming them_ - and he quickly found that the entire outfit attached, obscured by dirt and shadow as it was, looked eerily familiar. While that realisation was a harsh jolt to Hope's rattled brain, he dared to inspect further, and his eyes finally landed upon the look of utter disdain on Maqui's sooty face beneath his shock of blond hair.

"Hope, what the hell are you_ doing_ out here?" he snapped, glaring up from his reclined position. "Do you want to turn this stupid little cold into pneumonia or something?"

But no amount of sharp words could cut through the all-consuming relief that washed over Hope when he saw that his friend was mostly in one piece. He noted a bandage wrapped around one of Maqui's forearms, probably covering a burn, and a hastily constructed splint around his lower right leg. Suddenly, Hope was overwhelmed in the aftermath of his fears as they collapsed.

"You-you're not... You're okay!" he stammered, instantly hitting the ground and crushing Maqui in a hug with what feeble strength he had left. It was all he could do to keep from crying out loud, and he knew his sniffling and the burning in his blurry eyes weren't just from the sickness and the smoke.

Maqui grunted at the sudden contact, then relaxed and whacked him on the back a couple of times. "Dude, you're gonna get snot on my shirt..."

"Oh, sorry. I'm sorry." Relinquishing his hold, Hope backed off and fished around in his pockets for the wadded tissue he'd stuffed there at some point. He quickly blew his nose and tried to collect himself again. "But... I was _terrified _for you. What exactly happened in there?"

"Can't say for sure," Maqui replied, wincing briefly as he mistakenly tried to shift his damaged leg, his calmness surprising for what had just transpired. "We were repairing that last cable... guess I must've been a quarter of the way up the tower at that point. All the sudden, something crashed into the pole off to my left, and I think it was just the flash that got me - I kinda stumbled back, blocked my face with this arm," he explained, raising the bandaged forearm, "and slipped off. Broke my leg on the landing, apparently. I heard some of the soldiers thought there'd been a malfunction with the fireworks at the end, so that would explain the flash."

Quickly blowing his nose again, Hope managed to add, "I guess I can see why they'd come to that conclusion. Pretty precise shots for a malfunction, though, don't you think?"

"Oh yeah," Maqui agreed quietly. "I definitely smell a rat. But that's nothing we can handle right now. Let's just get back to the transport before you cough up a lung out here, alright?"

Hope shook his head vehemently several times, briefly unable to reply thanks to another fit of coughs that left his throat raw. "Maq, you're not going _anywhere_ right now except the ward," he croaked. "You are _on a stretcher_!"

"Yeah, I got that," Maqui scoffed. "So they'll take me in and strap some stuffy cast on my leg. Then I'll just hobble back to the transport anyway - and _you_ need to get back over there _now_. It's not doing either one of us any good for you to hang out here in the smoke and wind and stuff."

Hope couldn't help but cough out a laugh at his mocking dismissal of the circumstance, even if he knew the request was dead serious. "Fine, I'll do that, but on one condition - you give me a call the second you're leaving the ward, okay?"

"Fair enough, _Mom_." And before Hope even had a chance for rebuttal, a couple of soldiers swooped in to take the stretcher away, hauling Maqui off to receive proper care. As quickly and surely as they traveled, Hope couldn't have kept up with them if he'd tried. Drained didn't begin to cover the state of his body anymore.

During the long, painfully slow walk back to the transport, once Hope was finally left to process the reality of everything that had happened, another disheartening fact rolled into his awareness and hovered over him like a storm cloud. A cloud much more ominous and suffocating than the smoky mess fading away behind him to the south.

_How long will it be until we get that tower working for communications now, if it's even _safe _to try again?_

_Light, you really hit the nail on the head with your prediction, but I have no idea what they're ultimately trying to accomplish with this. I just hope we're able to let you know what's going on here, somehow._

* * *

Lightning and Lucil had been sitting impatiently outside the main entrance to the communications hub for the better part of an hour. Even after Yuj had assured them that things were going well - and graciously explained the situation to Lucil on Lightning's behalf - it was still annoying to not even be allowed to wait inside the building at all. This was one of those occasions that Lightning wished security would stick it where the sun didn't shine.

"Wish the sun wasn't shining here, either," she muttered to herself, getting up from the exposed bench to stand flat against the facility's wall for a brief reprieve beneath an overhang. "At this rate, I'll end up extra crispy."

Laughing, Lucil just stretched out her legs and spread her arms along the top of the bench. "Speak for yourself. I think I'll tan out nicely."

At that moment, the door finally creaked open and Yuj emerged, his self-satisfied grin answering Lightning's intense stare.

"Now now, you know how these things work," he said immediately, holding up his hands defensively. "It took some time to get the message into an acceptable format, and even more time to make sure all the appropriate members in command reviewed the information. Rest assured that we will send it... that is, if a connection can even be established."

Lightning worked her jaw in an attempt to respond, momentarily unable to voice anything past her disbelief. "You mean to say... even the emergency transmissions aren't getting through?"

"I mean to say that we don't know," Yuj replied evenly, a flicker of concern crossing his composed features as he handed Gwen's letter back to Lightning. "We only received the one message from Central, and we haven't been able to confirm successful receipt of our replies since then. They either aren't getting them, or they aren't able to respond and say that they are."

"What the hell is taking so long over there?" Lucil remarked, propping her elbows on her knees. "I'm no expert, but it shouldn't take forever to fix a routine outage in a tower like that - there's no way the damage was too complicated to assess and repair in a week, even if it was from an electrical storm. Something else is going on..."

Yuj took up a post against the wall to Lucil's right, mirroring Lightning, and raised his hands up behind his head. After several long moments of thought, he affirmed, "You _are _right about that. The question is, what's really holding them back?"

"It could be connected to this protest," Lightning said seriously. "We may be a little too late with that warning, even if our transmission is successful."

Lucil let out a long breath, clearly done with speculating. "Well, true as that may be, I don't see how we can do anything about it right now but wait. Sazh won't be back from his supply trip until Tuesday at the earliest, if you're thinking about hopping a flight to the Settlement." Standing from her seat, she shook her restless limbs and tugged Yuj, grumbling, out of his casual stance against the wall. She grabbed the end of her ponytail with her free hand and stretched it out to display its full length.

"For the moment, though, I need some help with _this_. Any objections to a long-overdue hair makeover?"

"No need to twist my arm," Yuj chuckled unsteadily, allowing himself to be led away. He called back to Lightning, "I'll get you a status update by the end of the day, once they've been able to take a few shots at sending the message!"

"Got it. Thanks." Lightning watched them go, all the while knowing that both of them were dying for a distraction from worrying over the situation beyond their control - she'd felt their discomfort thickening in the air throughout the conversation. It wasn't often that Maqui found himself in a position as vulnerable as the one Hope usually took up, and there was no chance that Maqui wouldn't be directly involved with mitigating the downed tower problem. The relay system was initially his own. Both Yuj and Lucil had unwittingly taken pains to avoid the mention of that obvious fact.

_Lucil did make a good point, though. We don't exactly have transports to spare, and they run a tight schedule. If it did come down to just getting to the Settlement myself, my best shot would be with Sazh._

_But would it even be worth the trip? Our efforts may already be too late to be helpful. If a protest is in motion right now, they'll still have to settle it like they've settled them before, and my presence would probably do more harm than good._

Fundamentally, Lightning knew her instinct was correct. No amount of _wanting _to go, just to confirm with her own eyes that Hope was fine, could outweigh the disadvantage that she might worsen the situation. Nor could it grant her permission to just leave her duty so soon after her return, practically speaking.

Lightning ran her fingers up through her already sweaty hair to grip her scalp, growling softly to herself about the entire predicament. She hated trusting in the flimsy chance that their message might miraculously reach Hope - a message that might not even be useful to him at all. The absolute lack of control over his safety was twisting her insides into knots.

_Please... I need to know you're alright._

* * *

"Hope, if I've never said if before, I'm sayin' it now - the colonel's a freakin' genius!" Maqui announced excitedly, tossing and catching the communicator in his hand. Barely awake, Hope watched him in the corner of his hazy vision as Maqui snatched his crutch from its place and gimped across the cabin. Hope had missed whatever conversation had just taken place during the last vestiges of his drugged up sleep, but once Maqui called his name and he realised how impossible it was to breathe through his clogged nose, Hope could sleep no longer.

_How can he be so chipper after last night? Goddess, being sick is annoying enough, but if I'd broken a leg..._

"So wha'd Miles say?" Coughing hard again after the effort to speak, Hope pushed himself up into a slouched sitting position on the cot. His eyes randomly focused on the comm unit in Maqui's hands, and slowly recognition of his own busted unit dawned on him.

"When'd you ged time to fix thad?" Hope croaked, making a feeble swipe at the communicator held out of his reach.

Maqui laughed and mussed his hair. "You've got no clue what time it is, huh? Let's just say I got bored with listening to you sleep-talking to your wife around lunchtime, so I made a little project out of your comm unit. The good colonel called to check up on you on that loaner unit about an hour ago, but I told him your old one was all fixed up and called him back on that instead. Works like a charm."

"Whoa, hold up." Shaking his head, Hope rubbed his eyes and asked instead, "You guys were dalking for an hour? Whad on Pulse aboud?"

"Oh, only our ticket out of this communications mess - at least, for the time being." Maqui grinned mischievously, and Hope had to wonder just how much of what was about to come out of his mouth had actually spawned from his own convoluted mind rather than the colonel's.

Hope raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "And this was Miles' idea?"

"Hell yes," Maqui insisted, his expression amusingly serious as he took Hope by the shoulders. "Would I ever give away credit for my own genius to someone else?"

"Acdually, you would. You _have_." Reaching for a tissue, Hope concentrated on trying and mostly failing to blow out some congestion from his stuffy nose rather than explain further.

Rolling his eyes, Maqui continued, "This really was the colonel's idea - initially, anyway. I'll take some credit for logistics. Long story short, we're off to good ol' Bravo Station!"

"Whad?" Hope suddenly sat up straight, questioning eyes wide. "Why?"

"Well, it's like this," Maqui began. He cleared his throat dramatically. "The colonel got briefed on everything that went down last night, of course, but when it came to dealing with the _extended _communications problem, he thought it wise to, you know, ask the guy who set up our relay network in the first place." Pausing, Maqui jerked a thumb toward himself.

Hope snorted at his joking around, but he couldn't help smiling. "Go on, weirdo."

"So then he asked me - just how hard would it be to temporarily route a channel or two around our busted main tower? He wanted to know if we had any other options in the way of towers, ya know... And I just so happened to remember one of our old standbys."

"Oh," Hope breathed, the pieces beginning to fall into place in his muddled brain. The tower on Bravo Station was small and dilapidated, as he could vaguely recall from brief visits there in the past, but it had the distinct advantage of being both high up on a rock outcropping and situated nicely between the Settlement and its next major relay point at Charlie Station. It had been put out of commission by nesting wyverns sometime after the conflict, and at that time the newer, larger main tower made its use obsolete, even once the wyvern pest problem was settled.

Mostly to himself, Hope remarked, "But thad one's still in bad shape."

"Hope, come_ on_ now," Maqui scolded teasingly. "You really think I couldn't direct a little team to rig that sucker with a solid relay outfit in a single afternoon? And there won't be a bunch of terrorizing bastards shooting fireworks at us out there, that's for sure."

Hope made another attempt at blowing his nose and finally met with some success. "Speaking of the terrorizing bastards, did Miles say they'd gotten any information?"

"No leads, yet," Maqui sighed, his brow suddenly knit in frustration. "The sentries who monitored the fireworks didn't remember any suspicious personnel hanging around the launch site. According to the report, they just saw the last few shots heading the wrong way all the sudden, and from the safe distance away they'd been standing, they couldn't react fast enough to stop it. Since those guys were the only people anywhere nearby, they're all being held for questioning."

"Guess the colonel isn't taking any chances, but I really hope this wasn't an inside job - not after all the negative attention the Council's been throwing at PSICOM lately," Hope said regretfully. With belabored and unsteady movements, he got up from the cot and started to pace around the cabin, mentally scrolling through images of the soldiers he'd worked around in Central. None really stood out to him as suspicious characters, though.

_I would've guessed an impostor might be to blame, but if any of those sentries had been faking identification, that would've come out immediately. Is it possible that there are sympathisers in PSICOM working with the Council, even when their own organisation's been attacked?_

Completing another round of pacing, Hope nearly tripped over the crutch Maqui had stuck out to get his attention. "Dude, I wasn't finished! Just hear me out for another couple of minutes."

"Yeah, sure." Hope plopped back down on the cot, resting his chin in his hands.

"Alright. So the colonel's sending a small working party over here in about an hour to head for Bravo Station," Maqui continued. "We're gonna fix up that tower, shoot a test transmission back to Central, and leave half the team there to monitor progress for a few days. But the really awesome news is, we aren't coming back here while that's going on. The colonel's orders are for us to fly directly to check out Charlie Station and leave the rest of the team, then continue to Aerma Proper and confirm in person that Central's transmissions are making it all the way over there."

Allowing his head to wrap around the news, it was a while before Hope stumbled upon its personal impact on him. "Wait - you mean I'm going _with _you? I never get to go with you on work trips..."

"Yes, knucklehead," Maqui jibed. "My leg's busted, and I need a copilot who can take over to give me breaks, bring me coffee - whatever this invalid happens to request." With that, he winked, and Hope just blinked back at him in shock. His mind was refusing to accept what it ultimately meant, even as the words formed and left his mouth.

"So... we get to go _home_, as part of this mission."

Laughing at his obviously bewildered expression, Maqui took his shoulders and gave him a firm shake. "Exactly! I'd totally take the broken leg all over again in exchange for this. The ladies'll never see us coming!"

"A-and Miles didn't want me around - you know, to help deal with the fireworks incident?" Hope stammered.

Maqui just patted him on the head like a small child. "Nope. In his words, with the way things are going right now, you're just a sitting duck here. A prime target, even. He also said something to the effect of not having the power to bring you back to life if you worked yourself to death. And no offense, but you kind of _are _doing that." To prove his point, Maqui wrapped both hands around Hope's upper arm and laced the ends of his fingers together.

"See that? I shouldn't be able to do that - you're losing muscle mass."

"But I climb on stuff all the time!" Hope protested, jerking free. "If I was losing muscle mass, it wouldn't make sense for it to be in my arms."

"Not so," Maqui corrected. "You're probably losing some all over. That's what you get for not eating enough - no amount of exercise can make up for proper nutrition, and you're the world's worst about skipping meals."

"_Ugh_." Hope flopped sideways onto the cot, exasperated. "You sound like Serah."

"Hey, consider yourself forewarned. She might threaten to hook you up to a feeding tube if you can't pull it together." Chuckling to himself, Maqui finally got up from his seat and hobbled back toward the front of the cabin.

"I'd go take a shower, if I were you," he called back to Hope. "We take off at 1500 sharp!"

For a few minutes, sitting in the relative quiet of the cabin, Hope just stared off at nothing while he absorbed the direction this new week was taking. He automatically reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded note from Lightning. It had been exactly seven days since he'd awakened to a piece of paper in an empty room, grounded with no options to change his situation, and now he was about to fly. Hope read over her words again and smiled ironically to himself.

_It's been too long since Sunday was just a relaxing day when nothing special happened._

* * *

**Endnote: In the words of beta-roomie, my overabundance of "depressing angst combined with various action sequences" did not lend itself well to "overt sarcasm." She did leave a couple of fun notes, nonetheless ^_^**

After Yuj teased Lightning about the attractive outfit he'd designed for Hope, and she dismissed it as irrelevant:** "especially since she would just take it off him :P"**

When Lucil remarks that she will tan out nicely:** "Said no Redhead, ever. :P" [beta-roomie and the sun don't get along]**

At Maqui's reference to Miles suggesting that Hope would be a prime target:** "good ominous foreshadowing"**

And after Hope's final thought about Sundays:** "aw *heart*"**


	11. Bringing Me Back

**A/N: Well, I'm just a tad late, but considering everything that happened last weekend, I've actually impressed myself with a post still landing NEAR my target! Following a wonderful birthday dinner Saturday, I came down with a glorious virus, LOST all of my birthday meal and then some, and went to the ER for an IV and meds – an excellent way to spend Super Bowl Sunday -_- At least the baby and I are all good! She wasn't happy, let me tell you…**

**But I digress. I offer up this much more entertaining chapter for your enjoyment, and would love to hear what you all think about the content/direction, songs, beta-roomie's rants - whatever! Happy early Valentine's Day (who knows, maybe I'll have a stroke of inspiration and do a one-shot for kicks; suggestions/requests are welcome) ^_^**

[Songs for chapter 11: "The World On A String" - Our Lady Peace; "Rambling Man" - Laura Marling; "Consolation Prizes" – Phoenix; "Welcome Home" - Radical Face; "Empty Bottle" - Ingrid Michaelson; "Everlasting Friend" - Blue October; "Why Am I the One?" - Fun.]

Bringing Me Back

As a rule, Tuesday had always been a very productive day in Lightning's routine, but this particular Tuesday just felt agonizingly slow. In the down time between her usual morning training exercises with the unit and bouts of paperwork, she found herself reconsidering something she shouldn't have been.

_What time will Sazh get back today? And how long would it take to process a request for emergency leave, if I asked Nooj by close of business?_

_Should I even ask, though? _While none of Yuj's attempts to get through to the Settlement had been successful over the two previous days, that didn't mean today would be the same. Furthermore, they hadn't received any other emergency transmissions from the Settlement, which was slowly beginning to numb everyone into a temporary survival mindset of 'no news is good news' - herself included, to an extent.

Staring out the window, Lightning tapped her pen incessantly against the desk, and after some magical number of taps, she shook her head to be rid of what she deemed temporary insanity. It was no time to panic and fly off in desperation.

_No. That's a stupid idea. Totally pointless and even detrimental._

Lightning honestly couldn't believe herself for thinking that way in the first place. It had been so much easier in the past for her to neatly segregate her personal and professional life, before all the complications of_ Hope's_ life seemed to launch an assault on her perfect system. First, it had wreaked havoc on their shared private realm, and for some time it had been inching its way into her jealously guarded military career. Lightning found that she could no longer prioritize her work over him without the familiar pang of guilt - or worse, she consciously _chose _not to put her work before him.

It wasn't that she'd taken excessive amounts of leave, but on many occasions she had called it a day much earlier than usual in order to get home at a decent hour, back when he was still on base. And even with Hope gone, her mind seemed to automatically default to putting unit concerns on the back burner if something was going on with him. She knew there would eventually be a price to pay for decisions like that. There would be mistakes, and those demanded consequences.

_Consequences I'm willing to accept, though. Right?_

Even hours later, Lightning was still working through the real answer to that question as she led the unit on its afternoon run. Her mind was racing so fast that she felt herself pushing her body to keep up with its pace.

"First Sergeant... Sergeant Farron!" one of the men called out behind her, and she whipped her head around in mild aggravation at having her train of thought interrupted.

"Make it quick, Corporal!"

"First Sergeant," he huffed, pulling up to match her pace, "I, uh... love running and all, but um... with all due respect, you've gotta slow down before the back half o' the group loses the trail."

Craning her neck behind them, Lightning could see that only a handful of the unit's members were still nearby, and even they were lagging a bit. The remaining soldiers were likely scattered along the trail at intervals, but it was never a good idea to lose track, even in the safer wooded area adjacent to the base. There were a number of branching trails along the way that stragglers might accidentally take if they fell too far behind - or take on purpose if they just didn't feel like putting much effort into running and would rather use a shortcut.

With a quick nod of acknowledgement, Lightning immediately cut back her speed. "Corporal, you know the big boulder up ahead, in about half a mile?"

"Yes, First Sergeant."

"Good," Lightning continued, taking a breath. "Keep leading the group to that point and wait there. I'm heading to the back."

_I'm not taking any chances. This was my fault for getting distracted._

Lightning backtracked down the trail for over a mile, counting heads along the way, before she finally reached the sergeant bringing up the rear. That particular female fixed her with a puzzled look as she approached.

"Something wrong, First Sergeant?" she asked, breathless but continuing her steady pace.

Lightning shook her head as she jogged alongside her, explaining simply, "Pace was too fast. Had to make sure the unit wasn't wandering in the woods by now."

Laughing lightly at that insinuation, the sergeant nodded graciously and picked up her own pace as best she could. Lightning was actually glad to be taking the slower speed for a change, though, as her own little trip had added another two miles to the run for her. She knew it wouldn't be a problem to keep it up, but her legs weren't exactly pleased with the extra punishment, however deserved it was. The weight of her boots dragged at her, seeming to sink deeper into the mix of soil, leaves and twigs along the trail more and more with each step until she adjusted to the pace.

Eventually, the entire forty-man unit gathered at the boulder for their five minute breather, which Lightning was grateful to take, and the last leg of the run back to base went over with no further slip-ups. As soon as her tired feet hit the hard-packed ground of the training field, however, her communicator came alive in its usual pocket - for the first time in days.

Lightning hesitated to answer it for a brief moment, noting that the rest of the group was anxious to be dismissed, but she couldn't help taking the call in the end. There was no telling who it might be.

"Hello?" she said simply, her even tone far from telling just how anxious she felt - it wasn't as if the caller could see her pacing around.

"Afternoon, Miss Lightning," Sazh answered genially, and his voice instantly transported her back to the concerns and consideration about leaving that had plagued her day. "Not interrupting somethin', am I?"

_Wait. I didn't _actually _tell anyone about maybe needing a lift. He couldn't possibly know..._

A tad thrown that the pilot of all people would call her, Lightning stood mute for a couple of awkward seconds. "Uh, I... not really. Just wrapping it up for the day. Is everything alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'm good," he continued, the epitome of cool and collected. "Just got back to a big surprise. BARTHOLOMEW's parked in my usual space at the hangar - still coolin' down too, so I'm not about to ask 'em to move. I figure Maqui's here on a run o' some sort, maybe for parts, but I can't get ahold of Lucil to tip her off. Is she with you?"

"I'm sure she's around." Lightning was instantly a bundle of nerves over what his arrival could mean, but she took a breath and continued, "I'll bring her right over once I find her. Thanks for the head's up, Sazh."

_At least Maqui can tell me all I need to know about what's going on, and he'll definitely know how Hope's doing._

The old man chuckled over the line. "Hey, just doin' my duty. Crazy woman made me swear on Dajh's favorite chocobo that I'd warn her the next time Maqui tried sneakin' into town, just so she could get him good for once."

"And I don't blame her," Lightning said immediately, grinning to herself. They _all _remembered the embarrassing stunt Maqui had pulled at the Vestige on his last visit - disguised as _her_, no less, with a pink wig and everything. She hadn't been there personally, of course, but the detailed account was relayed to her multiple times by Lucil and the many witnesses.

"We'll see you shortly, Sazh. If he tries to run off, stall him."

"Heh, will do. Bye for now."

She snapped the communicator shut and turned quickly to the inner practice field, where the worn out unit of soldiers stood stretching and trying too hard not to catch her eye with their impatient glances. Lightning didn't feel the need to hold them any longer, for many reasons.

"Alright, listen up," she announced, striding over to stand before the haphazardly formed front row of squad leaders. "That was a good show of effort today, and I have no intention of dragging this out with the usual speech about personal responsibility and initiative - you should know the drill by now. Hit the showers, and you're all dismissed."

Her unit wasted absolutely no time in disbanding and jogging off toward the barracks, many of them playfully shoving each other around or smiling over the uncharacteristically painless dismissal. Lightning didn't exactly carry a reputation for going easy on her subordinates, and she knew it. She was proud of it.

But today just wasn't the day to stick to her program. Charging into the training facility right off the field, she wove past several rooms before finally spotting Lucil - she almost didn't recognise her with the new pixie haircut and had to do a double-take at the door. Inside, Lucil was wrapping up another session on gunblade technique with a group of obvious novices. The poor girl who'd been her latest volunteer for one of the exercises was frantically trying to dislodge her blade from a practice dummy amidst the snickers of her peers.

"Ah, just leave it," Lucil coolly instructed, clapping the unfortunate soldier on the shoulder and motioning for her to step away. "This kind of setback can happen to anyone, so I'm about to show you all the proper way to free your blade without damaging any of the weapon's sensitive mechanics or busting up my dummy."

She stepped up to the dummy and rubbed her hands together for dramatic effect. "Better watch closely." Following a few short steps, Lucil planted her boot on the dummy's base and her hand on its arm, squatted beneath the gunblade handle until it rested atop her shoulder, and used her lifting force to push up on the jammed-in gunblade like a lever. Loosened, she was able to wriggle it free with ease and present it to the student.

"And done. _Always _push up from the handle to free a blade, never down. Can you remember this, Private, the next time you rage-slice my dummy?"

Nodding, the skittish-looking soldier carefully took back the weapon as she replied, "I'll remember, First Sergeant."

When some of the others looked on with their mocking grins and started muttering amongst themselves, Lucil immediately turned and snapped at them, "That goes for the rest of you, too. I get _one_ female in this gaggle, and she's the only one who lands a strike with enough force to stick the blade? Don't make me laugh."

In the quiet that followed, none of the other students dared raise their eyes, and Lucil took back the practice blade from her suddenly-stunned volunteer. Placing it on the rack, she strode toward a large hanging bell and rang it, the piercing sound bouncing off the walls. "Now move your sorry asses out o' my training room, and come back tomorrow with a little more oomph. Go!"

Lightning couldn't help but smirk from her position just outside the door, watching the cowed soldiers scurry past. She knew they'd likely be bad-mouthing Lucil in their barracks rooms later, but they certainly weren't going to utter a word until leaving the facility. The last time one of Lucil's mouthier students had made that mistake, Lightning had been fortunate enough to witness the floor-wiping of a match that he had limped away from. The redhead had as much of a reputation for seeking and tackling challenges as she did, but her uncompromisingly head-on approach was much more noticeable than Lightning's subtle persistence.

_And I'm sure you'll be anything but subtle about whatever payback scheme you've got in mind for Maqui. _

Popping her head into the empty room, Lightning called out, "_First Sergeant _Lucil, I've got some news that you're not gonna believe."

"Try me," Lucil laughed, turning to face her and obviously not surprised at all by her arrival. She meandered over to grab her red gunblade, reverted and holstered it, and went straight to Lightning at the door. "Pretty sure I've seen and heard it all."

"Tch, maybe..." Lightning continued, pulling her by the arm to leave the training facility. "You would've heard this sooner if you'd answered your comm unit. I know you were in class, but Sazh called - he said he's keeping his bargain to warn you that Maqui's just landed at the hangar."

Stopping short, Lucil could only stare back for several seconds.

"You say he_ just _landed? As in, less than an hour ago?"

"Sure sounded like it," Lightning assured her.

That seemed to set off some kind of internal reaction for Lucil, and she broke into a run toward the barracks.

Chasing her down, Lightning called after her, "What the hell are you-?"

"Gotta get some _special _materials!" she yelled back.

_Dare I ask what she's planning? _

Again, the image of Maqui hitting on Lucil while disguised as a creepily convincing Lightning Farron popped up in her mind, as she'd typically imagined it, and she felt an unfamiliar twinge of evil desire to not only witness her friend's revenge, but to be involved.

_Oh yes. She can get even, and then I can get some answers._

After they reached the room, once Lucil started unloading the stash of her _special_ materials from the closet, Lightning began to get the tiniest idea of what she had in mind.

"Hey, didn't_ I _give you those coveralls, out of Hope's old stuff?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. "Could've sworn you said you needed them for a painting project."

"So I lied." Lucil just laughed and continued digging things out - notably an old pillow and two sealed buckets. As she began stuffing them into a rucksack, she instructed Lightning, "Just put on some shorts and a tank to wear under the coveralls. Oh, and tie up that hair!"

Lightning heard the snap of a hairband as Lucil shot it through the air, and she caught it easily. "Aren't we going to look suspicious, skulking across base like this? I mean, you don't know that Maqui wouldn't head over to the communications hub first thing, considering the mess they've had. We might run right into him."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lucil scoffed. "He would've already called Yuj to let him know he's here - those guys don't waste the legwork if they can handle whatever-it-is over comms. Besides, we're taking a back route, close to the outskirts. You've still got that key to the south entrance, right?"

Fishing around in her pocket, Lightning produced a keyring and identified the sought item - the brassy key with an "H" carved into it.

"I'm not known for losing things," she said flatly, jangling the keys.

Lucil tossed a pair of coveralls straight into her arms. "Right, so no one's gonna see us heading over since we'll skip the main path and slip in the back way. Now there's just one last thing we need..."

From somewhere in the depths of that seemingly bottomless closet, Lucil eventually emerged with two small squares of fabric.

"Bandannas? Seriously?" Lightning deadpanned, snatching the blue one nonetheless. "These aren't going to fool anyone."

"You've got a better idea?" Lucil fired back, and Lightning could only blow out a sigh that ruffled her bangs.

"No."

Tying on her purple bandanna, Lucil sweetly instructed, "Then shut it."

* * *

Hope stood from the co-pilot's seat and stretched, relieved to finally be able to move his legs around after the long flight. A brief wave of dizziness that struck his stuffy head had him sitting right back down, though.

"So... what's the verdict?" he called back into the cabin to Maqui, who had spent the last fifteen minutes on his comm unit with Yuj.

The heavier thumping sound of his crutch crossing the cabin got gradually louder until Maqui popped his head into the cockpit.

"He said he's gonna run a test over the secure channels. If those work, the colonel wants us to configure another couple of non-secure channels on our way back to the Settlement."

Leaning his head back against the seat, Hope released a tired breath that turned into several coughs. "Guess we don't have much down time after all."

"Well, not _that _much, but we don't have to leave immediately," Maqui corrected, plopping back into the pilot's seat. "The boss man didn't really want us around while the culprits in that fireworks incident were still at large, and he also wants you to recover from whatever this crap is you've caught."

"Fine. Maybe Serah can make some magical cold-killing soup." After another round of hacking, Hope tried to take a drink from his canteen only to find it drained dry.

"I'm gonna go fill this," he muttered hoarsely, dragging himself out of the seat to exit the cockpit. "Be right back."

Knowing their on-board water supply had already dwindled to nothing, Hope headed straight for the hatch to get his refill from the hangar instead. As icky and slightly chilled as he'd been feeling, he was almost certain that he'd started developing a fever, and he succumbed to pulling on the nearest cast-off hoodie he could find over his coveralls, even raising the hood.

_I'd rather not get cornered in conversation with any of the workers here right now. Maybe I'll get lucky._

"Stealing your shirt," he called absently.

Maqui just laughed. "You're also doin' my laundry, sucker!"

"Sure thing, gimpy - go ahead and milk this for all it's worth!" Hope teased. He opened the hatch, gave a cursory glance over the handful of mechanics still dealing with minor repair projects on the far side of the hangar, and set his sights on the drinking station near the east entrance. At that hour on a Tuesday evening, things were quieter as the workday started to wind down. Hope let out a small breath of relief and took the few steps down the ladder.

But in the instant his boot hit the concrete, he nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt a sudden splash of heavy liquid dousing his hood and shoulders, and he shuddered at the crawling sensation of it running down over him. It was like he'd walked under a flooded drainpipe.

_What the hell-?!_

Automatically looking up in bewilderment, Hope gasped in shock when someone raced by and sloshed his entire front with another helping of the thick liquid. He had a mere second to swipe his eyes clean and process the mouthful he'd incidentally swallowed, determining that it was some kind of syrup from the sweetness, before a heap of colorful feathers rained down in its wake. Hope dropped his canteen and batted furiously at the downy assault, but found that they were rapidly sticking all over him - wherever the syrup had landed.

Even as his mind tried to grasp the unreal facts of his situation, Hope started sneezing at the feathers tickling his face and coughing uncontrollably. Ducking his head against another possible attack, he barely caught the sound of familiar mocking laughter as he turned to escape back into the transport. The assailant moved much faster though, snatching and binding his wrists behind his back with impressive speed before spinning him around.

"Aw, don't tell me you're suddenly allergic to chocobo down. Wouldn't_ that_ be a convenient pity play," she teased, and Hope recognised Lucil for her voice - he finally focused up through his sticky mask of feathers to confirm it.

"I-I have a- a_choo_!" Hope choked, aggravated at both his inexplicable predicament and his inability to express himself. Squirming back against the grip she'd taken on his shirt, he tried to shout at her again, but Lucil only jerked him closer and smothered his mouth with her hand.

"Shh..." she whispered close to his ear, the gesture beginning to alarm Hope in earnest. "You need a few seconds to _not _run that mouth of yours and just contemplate what you did that led to this moment, blondie."

_Oh no! Not me, not me! Damn this hoodie and _all _hoodies, I swear-!_

Hope shook his head furiously and was seriously considering biting her hand or even kicking her to get his point across when his ears were greeted with the sound of his salvation. Maqui had apparently come to the hatch and witnessed the spectacle, his wicked laughter unmistakable. Lucil's face immediately snapped up to look.

"Sorry to kill your fun, but you might wanna let the kid go!" he mocked, and she released Hope like he was on fire, her mouth agape as she glanced back and forth between the two men.

Coughing again, Hope managed to explain, "I tried to tell you - I have a cold!"

"I-I thought... but that's _his_..." Lucil fumbled, gesturing at him as her face burned crimson.

They were both startled further when Lightning suddenly jumped down from the rungs running up the transport and strode over to Hope, tugging the hood back to expose his hair. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was fighting the urge to greet him with hugs or kisses - between the coughing and the feathery syrup nonsense, it was just a bad idea. Instead, she smiled slightly and leaned down to retrieve his canteen from the floor, then moved to untie his wrists.

"I'm sorry - _you_ weren't the target," Lightning said matter-of-factly. "At least your head was covered."

_Good goddess - is it open season for pilots?_

Hope shook his freed hands and scrubbed at his arms, still unable to dislodge the feathers. He was equally unable to wrap his head around Lightning's presence and involvement in what had just happened, particularly since she was wearing a pair of his old coveralls - something she had sworn off ever wearing on _multiple _occasions - and a bandanna to boot. Recovering his wits to a point, he stammered, "Wh-why was there a target at all? What _is _this?"

"Sweet and feathery revenge. That was the plan, anyway," Lucil muttered, her eyes shifting to her boots self-consciously. She finally looked back up to Maqui, who hadn't moved from his position at the open hatch, and called out, "Don't worry - you've successfully avoided my _entire _attack. It's perfectly safe to come down here."

Maqui shrugged and called back, "I'm still takin' the ramp."

"Oh fine, be that way," she huffed, her words drowned out by the sound of the cargo bay being opened.

"Would someone _please _tell me what this revenge was _for_?" Hope insisted as he irritably plucked the feathers from his face one by one, sneezing at intervals. "I look like one of those creepy dancing bird-monsters!"

Lightning snorted once behind her hand as she appraised him. "Yeah, you kind of do. We should get you cleaned up first, and then I'll tell you what the revenge plot was for. I'd rather not go into it here. But trust me, it was a worthy cause."

"Ha, _more _than worthy," Lucil added, wiping her sticky palms on the legs of her coveralls and finally removing her bandanna. "He pulled a stunt that demanded such retribution it would've been a crime to let it go."

Hope coughed a few times in surprise, gesturing at the pixie cut before he rolled his eyes. "What'd he do, put gum in your hair? I feel like he would've bragged to me about a stunt of the magnitude you're claiming."

"Not if it would get you on his case, too. He seriously needed to be taught a lesson. Why do you think _Light's _here aiding and abetting?" Lucil charged.

"Oh, _clearly _you've taught _Maqui _a lesson," Hope dragged out sarcastically, flapping his arms like wings to send a few feathers flying at her. "I could've died happy not knowing what kind of kinky stuff my friends were into. I mean, was it really necessary to tie me up? And as for Light getting involved, I bet you just conned her into helping you."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Lightning immediately retorted, "I'm not that easily persuaded, thanks."

_I beg to differ, but this seems like a bad time to disagree..._

"My mistake," he mumbled sheepishly.

Right then, Maqui finally hobbled his way around from the back of the transport, and Lucil's jaw dropped at the sight.

"Maker... what did you _do_ to yourself?!" she exclaimed, jogging over to meet him and investigate the crutch and cast.

Once she'd had her moment to fuss over him, Maqui just laughed and pulled her by the collar into a kiss - which Lucil clearly had not anticipated in the least. She gasped and went rather rigid before relaxing into it. Hope was caught off guard himself by that sudden leap, even for his spontaneous friend.

_Maybe it's just the product of a near-death experience._

Maqui released her and ruffled the short layers of her fiery hair, asking with a smirk, "Isn't it obvious? I busted my leg. Just a fall, ya know - typical job hazard. It'll heal up fast." Tilting his head curiously, he moved closer to her again. "But what did _you _do to your mile-long ponytail?"

"I-It was getting on my last nerve!" Lucil insisted, still flustered but trying to recover. "Don't shed any tears over it."

"Nah. This is even sexier."

From where he stood a few meters away, Hope thought it wise to tune out their conversation. He sneezed again, then turned to Lightning and shrugged.

"Doesn't look like she's gonna kill Maqui. And you know, I can't bring myself to feel bad about taking the wrath for him, anyway," he assessed, grinning at her through the remaining feathers. "Lucil still got you into coveralls, so I'm calling this day a win."

"How can you be such a glutton for punishment?" Lightning muttered as she grabbed him by the wrist to lead him across the hangar. "Sick as a dog, covered in goop and you _still _have to rub it in my face that I've fulfilled one of your weird fantasies. What am I going to do with you?"

Hope laughed and coughed harshly a few times. "Whatever it is, I would say bring it on, but I think I might be contagious."

"That wasn't an offer," Lightning said pointedly. Once they had made their way down the steps into the bunker, she turned on him, their noses nearly touching, and tacked on, "Though you aren't giving my immune system enough credit."

"I'm sure your immune system is as amazing as the rest of you," Hope teased, taking a step back as he felt another coughing fit coming on. After it subsided, he said stubbornly, "But I really might be contagious, believe me. I've felt a little feverish since we landed."

Lightning simply grumbled and pulled him along again, all the way to the HAZMAT shower, where she rolled up her sleeves and started helping him strip off his syrup-and-feathered clothes. "Let's just take this one problem at a time, okay, bird-man?"

"Hmph, I'm sold," Hope replied, hurriedly loosening his laces and kicking his boots off.

_This sticky stuff is just disgusting - so much worse than mud or grease or anything_ normal.

It was a few quiet minutes later, after Lightning had playfully shoved him into the running shower and was just about to take the canteen for a refill, when Hope stuck his head out and spoke up again.

"Hey, Light?"

"Hm?" She turned from her task and stood before him, her free hand perched on her hip. "What is it?" He couldn't help but admire how gorgeous she looked, in spite of his baggy coveralls and the bandanna over her hair - the blue fabric actually accented her eyes, and some of her pink curls still managed to escape from the bottom and land on her shoulder, where they belonged.

Hope leaned his head against the edge of the shower and smiled contentedly. "You have no idea how good it is to see you."

* * *

"Sorry for monopolizing your laundry room," Lightning said tiredly over her shoulder, digging through the many articles of both Hope's and Maqui's clothes to make sure nothing in the pockets went into the wash.

Serah giggled and shook her head. "You know I don't care. I'd do laundry for those boys every day if they'd drop by more often." As she turned to leave, she called back to Lightning, "I'm putting Milo to bed and starting the tea - your father-in-law's coming over, so don't take too long. He's a busy, busy Mayor now, and it _would _take something like Hope randomly making a visit to get him to come to dinner."

"I get it, Serah. I can handle deadlines." Smiling ironically to herself, Lightning could certainly understand her sister's sentiments. She hadn't typically done Hope's laundry for him in the past, but she wasn't about to drag him off the couch - he'd crashed there shortly after their arrival, once Serah gave him a dose of stronger medicine and planted him on the cushions with a blanket. Lightning suspected there was something about the familiar environment that must have put him at ease, because he was out like a light in less than ten minutes.

_And he doesn't look like he's been getting much sleep, lately,_ she thought, frowning down at her hands. The puffy shadows under his eyes were the first thing she'd noticed when Hope had looked at her from the shower, his face clean of the mess that had been stuck there.

_Tch, and you have no idea how good it is to see you, either, even if it means seeing you so run down._

Lightning shook her head and finally dropped the last pair of coveralls into the washer, stretching before she got a good look at the collection of miscellaneous articles their laundry had contained. One of them had forgotten his comm unit - Hope, she suspected - and there were several small tools, bits of wire, wads of tissue, cleaning rags and a folded piece of paper as well. The paper caught her eye, so she snatched and opened it.

"Oh, this..." Lightning immediately recognised her own note, which she hurriedly folded back up and stashed under the communicator. The sight of it made her cringe - primarily since she couldn't escape the feeling that her actions were at least partly to blame for Hope's deteriorated state.

_But it would've been hard on him either way, I'm sure..._

"Light?"

She snapped back to reality at Lucil's voice, suddenly remembering her task and busying her hands with the detergent. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to see if I could help," Lucil offered. Her eyes roamed over the assortment of odd items, and she chuckled. "What's with the junk collection?"

Dropping the lid shut, Lightning stopped to redo the messy bun of her hair. "Those two are a couple of pocket hoarders. Think you can sort Maqui's junk from the pile?"

"I can try. First off, the comm unit's definitely not his - he was just talking to Yuj again a few minutes ago. And I think it's pretty clear who all the snot wads belong to." Lucil stepped into the room and fished out the small trash can in the corner, sweeping the crumpled tissues into it.

After several beats of silence, backed only by the churning washer, she cleared her throat. "So... can I ask you kind of a weird question?"

"Go ahead," Lightning said easily, keeping her inflection free from hints of her piqued interest. It wasn't often that Lucil sounded insecure.

Setting the trash can down again, she let out a heavy breath. "Okay. Has Hope ever lied to you about something big... even by omission? Because I think Maqui's not telling me something. And it's not like him to do that, so I don't want to just call him out and make him think I don't trust him."

"Well, to answer the question," Lightning began, hoisting herself up onto the dryer, "Yes, Hope_ tried _to keep something from me recently. I got it all out of him in no time. It's one thing for him to hide things from me when I can't see him face to face, but he doesn't stand a chance when I can deal with him in person."

Laughing once, Lucil planted her hands on her hips and remarked, "Too bad I don't have as much of an _arsenal _at my disposal as you. Maqui's not so easy to read."

"What do you mean, arsenal?" A bit ruffled by the charge, Lightning sat up straight, her muscles stiffening in the usual defensive response.

"Oh, come on," Lucil scoffed. "Don't tell me you didn't loosen him up a bit to make him talk - that's just too easy. You could've gotten him tipsy or just straight up seduced it out of him. He might've even told you in his sleep!"

Lightning watched her with a critical eye, brushing over the fleeting thought that her friend knew her husband almost _too _well. She opted not to veer from the topic. "And these options are off the table for you because...?"

"Maqui's too crafty to be tricked into drinking a lot around me," Lucil said, slouching back against the wall as she scuffed her boot on the floor. "Plus, we haven't quite cleared the 'awkward' stage," she added, punctuating the remark with air quotations, "in our relationship. I mean, we're not officially dating yet... I think. I could be wrong. But even if we were more involved, I have no reason to think he talks in his sleep, and I don't really do subtle - that rules out seduction."

"Then you'll be happy to know that I didn't use any of your alleged arsenal to find out what Hope was keeping from me," Lightning said, so intent on remaining neutral that she almost sounded bored. After the words left her mouth, though, she realised that she was technically wrong on two accounts and gladly qualified, "Not strictly speaking, anyway. There may have been drinking and sex, but it was mostly unrelated."

Snorting, Lucil teased, "Sure, _mostly_. Then what's your final order, O wise one? Ask him directly and hope he takes it well?"

"Not right away. I think it's best to listen for cues or ask around first, just to confirm that you have grounds to question him," Lightning concluded. "Hope might be a good source. He's a clumsy liar, and he's definitely learned his lesson about keeping secrets. But be prepared when you do confront Maqui - if there's anything you might've kept from him, he could get defensive and leverage it against you."

"Hm... I guess there really isn't any way around being straight about it." Still visibly conflicted, Lucil pushed off the wall and rubbed her hands together while she considered her approach. Just before she stepped out of the room, she turned around again and shot Lightning a questioning look.

"I shouldn't wake Hope up, though, huh?"

"No," Lightning said bluntly, without hesitation. "Not that you could, but don't even try. Hope's never going to get back to being his normal self if he doesn't stop pushing his body so far."

_He'll have to get up soon enough to see Bartholomew, anyway._

Shrugging, Lucil paused in the doorway as she commented off-handedly, "Hope's never gonna get back to himself, period, as long as he's way over in the Settlement and you're here. You do realise that, right?"

Lightning instinctively fixed her eyes on the communicator and the note, feeling the slight sinking of her stomach again that always came with acknowledging a hard truth.

"Yes. I do."

* * *

_It was the laziest part of the afternoon. As he lay on his back on a blanket under the trees, Hope realised that he hadn't yet spared a moment in appreciation for the beautiful March weather - one of several reasons they chose the month to get married. He may not have counted on being stranded in the wilderness, but he couldn't have planned it better. The breeze was the perfect temperature on his skin, and what little sunlight filtered down through the canopy overhead was soft, glancing off tiny, harmless insects in the air to create a glimmering effect. His eyelids felt heavy again, beginning to droop as he watched them dance._

_A light laugh drifted into his consciousness, and Hope slowly turned his head toward the sound._

_"Why are you smiling now?" Lightning asked him, not fully awake herself. She had shifted onto her side, her head resting on her arm. The tangled arrangement of rosy waves lay over her shoulder and all around her face, even obscuring one eye, but she made no move to fix it. She breathed, and Hope watched her, every other thought stricken from his mind besides the unbelievable truth that she was his._

_"Why would I _stop _smiling?" _

_Lightning snorted, stretching and curling in on herself reflexively as she became more alert. She propped her head up with one hand before reaching out to trace his lips with a finger. "You can't keep that sappy look on your face forever. We've gotta get up sometime."_

_"Don't remind me," Hope scoffed at her declaration, playfully trapping her index finger in his mouth, but a low grumble from the vicinity of his gut wasn't helping his cause. Defeated, he flopped onto his stomach and groaned in aggravation, his voice muffled by the blanket. _

_"Stupid basic needs."_

_Still, the small annoyance couldn't keep its hold. Relaxing into the moment, he could feel himself drifting off again. The air around him seemed to be getting warmer and decidedly more humid, but he shut it out. It wasn't as if he had any more clothing to remove - another breeze was sure to come along and cool him down..._

"Hope? Hey, wake up."

Serah's tentative voice was definitely unexpected, given where Hope assumed he was - not a living soul had disturbed Lightning and himself on their honeymoon. Even if their general location had been known, their family and friends likely wouldn't have dared for fear of her wrath. Confused, he tried to dismiss the voice, but shortly afterward he felt a gentle shake on his shoulder and a reiterated, "Come on, sweetie, wake up. Your dad's here."

No longer able to deny reality, Hope gradually came around, whining softly at the harsh change. Waking up to a painfully dry throat with his face in the damp pillowcase, he noticed one commonality from the memory he'd dreamed of - his stomach was loudly complaining. Everything else was a stark contrast. He was wearing clothes, _all _of which were stuck to him with sweat, it was dim in the room by the lamplight, and Lightning didn't seem to be nearby.

Hope shifted onto his back, looking up through his blurry vision to see Serah place a hand against his sticky forehead. "Oh good," she sighed. "Your fever broke already."

"Could I have some water, Sis?" he croaked.

Smiling sympathetically, she helped him to sit up and handed him a glass. "I'll do you one better. We've got tea and soup downstairs, but we didn't want to start eating without you."

That was music to his ears, and he cracked a smile. "Is it the kind of soup that makes everything better?"

"Do I make any other kind, silly?" Serah retorted. She kissed the top of his head and helped him off the couch, making sure he was steady before they headed for the basement stairs. The closer they got, the more Hope could pick up on the sound of friendly chatter drifting up from the kitchen. As they neared the bottom of the stairs, he breathed a sigh of relief to hear Maqui's voice casually recounting the series of events that had led to their arrival. Hope felt sure he would have conveniently left out the part about the fireworks - that or buried it under the cover of the 'malfunction' excuse.

"So Hope was only cleared to come as your backup pilot? And because he needed time to recover from a cold?" Bartholomew had just asked, sounding unconvinced, as Hope and Serah stepped into the room. He instantly turned to face them, smiling as he adjusted his glasses.

"Speak of the devil." Hope had all of two seconds to process his movement away from the table before Bartholomew had enveloped him in a hug. From over his father's shoulder, Hope saw a fleeting look of grateful relief flash across Maqui's face. Knowing how the former diplomat could drill a person with his barrage of questions, it was easy to guess that their interruption had saved Maqui an uncomfortable explanation.

Chuckling nervously, Hope stood back and remarked, "What, don't you give your underlings sick days, or are you shaping up to be a slave driver, Mayor of Aerma Proper? I'm pretty sure _my _boss has figured out that I won't stay away from work unless I physically can't go in."

He could instantly see that the joking attempt had fallen flat - his father just appraised him for a moment, a pained look drawing lines over his face. Hope knew it wasn't an expression of regret about any of his present obligations, however demanding Bartholomew's work might have been to revamp a growing civilian community on a remote military base. It was a remnant of wasted days - years, even - that haunted him, from when his Sanctum position had overruled his family.

_Way to salt a wound, Hope. That didn't come out right at all..._

A light giggle broke up his thoughts. "Oh, that's not it - Miles just knows you're more likely to eat my cooking," Serah teased in passing, ruffling his hair as she headed for the bubbling soup pot on the stove. Her words had successfully cut through the tension, and Hope nodded his agreement with a laugh - the soup smelled wonderful, especially since his nose had cleared up somewhat. He and Bartholomew simply took their seats at the table with no further discussion, already refocused on their tea cups.

"Who wouldn't be?" Maqui added, lounging back in his chair. "Central seriously needs to reevaluate their food service staff."

Beside him, Lucil raised an eyebrow at him curiously. "If their food's so terrible, where exactly have _you _been eating?"

Maqui explained with a shrug and a smirk, "I'm really a cyborg at this point. I plug myself into the console, and we're good to go."

"Ugh... why did I ask?" Lucil groaned, rubbing the heel of her hand against her forehead.

Up to that point, Lightning had been silently standing against the counter as she sipped her tea, watching Hope with a cautious smile half-hidden behind her cup whenever he caught her eye, but when she opened her mouth, her mission was clear and direct.

"Maqui, did Yuj say they'd finished the transmission to Central?"

"Uh... yeah," he replied, obviously a little thrown by her sudden shift of the conversation. He scratched his head. "Didn't I mention that earlier?"

"Hope wasn't here for the news," Lightning said plainly. The stern set of her features reminded Hope of the way she looked whenever it was time to get back to business - the_ actual _kind of business involving serious things that needed to be dealt with. He could tell she was excited to see him home, but it was just as clear that something weighed heavily on her mind.

"Are you just talking about reestablishing the connection?" Hope asked, testing a theory that her concerns were connected to the topic she'd raised. He cleared his scratchy throat before continuing. "Or do you mean a specific transmission?"

Lightning retrieved a stack of bowls from the cabinet and carried them to Serah as she replied, "It's specific. Since you aren't in the Settlement with the colonel, you obviously didn't get the message that he just received."

"And what was it about?" Hope kept his eyes on her, even as the delicious smell of a perfectly balanced vegetable soup wafted over while Serah filled the bowls.

_Urgh, I'm not going to enjoy this meal until everything's out in the open, am I?_

Approaching the table, Lightning set a steaming bowl of the soup in front of him. "It was just information we stumbled upon - some indicators for what group is being targeted by the Council to start another protest, and why. Nothing out of the ordinary, but hopefully it's useful."

"Who's being targeted?" Hope asked immediately, not even picking up his spoon. He locked eyes with her, demanding that she not leave it at that. Certainly the leadership in Central knew that the Public Council prowled around trying to stir up trouble all over the Settlement, but that didn't mean they could effectively pinpoint a single target group to prevent protests with much accuracy.

Lightning sighed and took a seat next to him, preparing for the rehash, but she wasn't the one to answer first.

Beating her to the punch, Serah floated over with two more bowls and said simply, "We think it's probably the hospital workers. When I told Sis about all the stuff that's been going on with Ann's job, she went straight to Yuj, and I knew something was up. I may or may not have cornered her about it a couple of days ago." Serah smiled innocently and went back for the rest of the bowls, leaving a collective impression of awe to settle over everyone at the table.

Lightning was the only one undeterred - her eyebrow just twitched in annoyance at the interruption. "What Serah _didn't _know was that her information matched up with another source." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a folded piece of paper and passed it to Hope. Nothing about it struck him as familiar, and he shot her a perplexed look before opening it to read the contents. His eyes grew progressively wider as he scanned over the words and, finally, the name of their author.

"When did you-?" Hope began, his gaze not leaving the page as he reread the most pertinent section of information. Looking more closely, though, he noticed the water stains and smudged lettering all over the paper, and suddenly his mind snapped back to the memory of Lightning drying out the letter from her pocket.

"You... had this back in the Settlement," he muttered incredulously, finally meeting her eyes with confusion. "Why didn't you say something then?"

"I hadn't even looked it over, at that point," Lightning replied, not affected in the least as she calmly continued to sip her tea. "I meant to leave it with you after it dried out, but too many things happened at once. Believe it or not, I do forget things from time to time."

Hope stared at Gwen's letter again, something still nagging at the back of his mind, and it took several seconds for the source of his discomfort to finally come forward. "I mean... why did _you _read it, period?"

Still unfazed, Lightning explained, "She said I could, and I was curious anyway. I only regret that I didn't read it sooner and leave it with you before I left, considering the lack of comms for the past week."

"Yeah, _that _was a happy coincidence," Maqui scoffed sarcastically, raising a spoonful of broth only to drop it back into the bowl after a scalding sip. "Word gets out about a potential protest and _poof_, the lines are dead."

Bartholomew pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and fixed his stare on Maqui. "You think the Council was somehow behind the outage, then." It wasn't a question, and Hope was far from surprised that his father hadn't missed a single detail in drawing that conclusion.

"We do," Hope supplied, absently stirring his spoon in the soup. "Not that we can do anything but speculate about the reason they did it, or what they have in store now. We can at least eliminate the tower disconnection as a way to stage a huge protest without any forces outside the Settlement knowing about it - no one protested at all during the outage."

A few contemplative moments later, Bartholomew spoke up. "You might be thinking a little too 'big picture' there, son. On the smaller scale, I'm only seeing two related coincidences - one, the tower being down, and two, the fireworks malfunction. There's no possible way those aren't connected. Incidents like that don't just spring up in tandem by chance."

Hope stared into his bowl, his brow furrowed in thought. _So Maqui did try to pass it off as a malfunction... I guess I shouldn't have expected Dad to buy it._

"They're still investigating to track down the culprits behind the fireworks," Hope admitted at length, too tired and too understanding of his father to even try to deny the truth. His logical side was also curious if the former Sanctum diplomat might actually be able to help reason through the Council's tactics.

The slap of a hand against the wooden table made him snap his head up, and he quickly identified a somewhat irate Lucil as the source. Thankfully, her laser sights weren't set on him.

"So there was someone _behind _this?" she ground out, gesturing at Maqui and his cast-clad leg. "That would've been good to know."

"Hey, we can't _prove _anything!" Maqui protested. When Lucil still didn't dial back her stare-down routine, he crossed his arms and sank stubbornly into his seat, refusing to elaborate further.

Hope tuned out their minor spat and turned to his father, fully intent on gaining some insight. "Dad, what do _you_ think is the most likely reason the Council would orchestrate a tower outage and a fireworks malfunction? Assuming we do end up proving that they did it."

Blowing across a spoonful of soup, Bartholomew gave it a taste before he replied, "I'd call it textbook Sanctum. The nature of this scheme is easy to see through, if you take it from that angle. Think about how the fal'Cie and the Sanctum whipped all of Cocoon into a frenzy of hatred for Pulse l'Cie - they used propaganda and showed footage to positively identify them as the enemy. That only leaves you with one question, and I believe you can already answer it: Who stands to take the blame for downed communications and faulty fireworks?"

"PSICOM, of course," Lightning replied first. "And if they tried to pass the blame, it would make the entire organisation look that much more guilty."

"But that's no different from what the Council is _always _trying to do," Hope huffed in frustration, propping his head in one hand. He rubbed circles against his temple as he continued to spell out the aggravating situation. "They spread bad information about PSICOM all the time - it's practically their battle cry. What I need to know is why they're taking more extreme measures now, all the sudden. This past week and a half was a spike in dangerous activity."

_They're not just planting seeds of doubt anymore - they're launching doubt _missiles.

From across the table, Serah said quietly, "Maybe they were waiting for the right trigger. Everyone's really emotional about the Landing Festival, so they could've just held off and set some elaborate plan in motion at the perfect time to get better results out of the people, right?"

"Exactly," Bartholomew agreed, straightening up as something striking must have occurred to him. He narrowed his eyes at Hope and asked bluntly, "Who is running this Council, son?"

Cringing inside, as he generally did whenever he had to mention the hateful man, Hope took a calming breath before he answered.

"His name's Edgar Banon. I don't know much about him, personally."

Bartholomew scowled, but a few thoughtful seconds later, his mouth turned up into the closest thing to an evil smirk that Hope had ever seen on his father.

"Well, you're in luck," Bartholomew said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I happen to know him _very _well, just like I knew all the little imps I once called colleagues. If he's planning to pull Sanctum tactics on Ann and her hospital, there are a few things you might want to chat with her about when you get back to the Settlement, Director. I have a feeling she'll listen to you."

Slowly, a grin spread over Hope's face, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a bit of the weight that had been riding on his shoulders drop away.

"Could we save that for after dinner, please?" Serah piped up, her eyes pleading as she waved at the cooling soup on the table, and everyone set to it before they could be further guilted into compliance.

Hope chuckled and shook his head in slight disbelief, his appetite returning in force. _Sounds like I have an advantage,_ he thought.

_Maybe I won't have to run anymore._

* * *

If Tuesday's duty hours had moved at a snail's pace for Lightning, the rest of the week had flown by with equally baffling speed. Now, a familiar and loathsome tension settled over the bunker as she tried to distract herself from the process of Hope packing his things, burying a myriad of questions and concerns in her mind while she aimlessly searched the room for items he might have missed. Not that he ever forgot anything important.

It was only when he hefted the stuffed rucksack from the bed, finally set to say his goodbyes, that Lightning's thoughts threatened to burst into the open. Every step he moved closer, she could rein them in less and less.

The instant he reached her, she latched onto the straps of the rucksack Hope carried, her gaze burning into his.

"Hope, you can't do this."

His eyes clouded over with confusion, colored with a hint of impatience. "What do you mean, I can't? It's not like I _want_ to leave, but Miles set the date and we have to get back-"

"That isn't what I meant," Lightning interjected, huffing in frustration. "I don't want you to go through with this plan you've concocted with your father. I know it sounds promising, but you're putting yourself in the line of fire if you confront Ann in person. There has to be another way."

"No, there isn't," Hope retorted stubbornly. He prised her fingers from the rucksack straps and stepped away, pacing around the small space for several seconds. Finally, he fixed her with a conflicted look and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"Ann knows me. Even if you discount the fact that I ought to do the honorable thing and take direct responsibility for my actions - since _my_ project is the one hoarding the power source the hospital wants - you can't deny that I owe her for saving my life," Hope explained, letting his hand fall. He shook his head, a sad smile turning up his mouth. "She put her safety and reputation on the line for me once, and the rest of her staff needs some real reassurance. They won't take anyone else seriously."

Lightning glared at the floor, feeling powerless to do a single thing. She couldn't rationally counter a word he'd said, but that didn't erase the uneasiness tightening in her gut.

A hand brushed her cheek, scattering the dark thoughts, and Hope lifted her face to meet his. He kissed her once, promising quietly, "I won't do anything reckless. Trust me."

"It isn't you I don't trust," Lightning said. "You kept your promise to ask Miles about that expedition, after all. Nooj called me in this morning - he said the colonel specifically requested that I join the team when the time comes, and I know that was your doing."

Chuckling briefly, Hope pulled her into an embrace. "They're lucky to get you on board - but yeah, I may have mentioned a few things about your qualifications, your vested interest... whatever I thought might work. Why would I ever pass up a chance to see you, anyway?"

"Point taken." She pushed him away just enough to catch him for another kiss, only backing down at the weighty thought of the weeks or months stretching before them. Hope watched her eyes, clearly trying to decipher the flash of uncertainty she'd let slip through.

"That's the next time I'll see you, isn't it?" Lightning muttered, studying his face for a moment before she dropped her eyes to his neck. She traced a finger over his collarbone. "How long, do you think...?"

Hope swallowed thickly, then sighed. "I wish I knew."

* * *

**Endnote: Yeah, so I pretty much gave beta-roomie a smorgasbord of material to work with here. Don't drink anything while you read this…**

When Light comments on her recent trend toward making mistakes and bad decisions: **"Bad soldier. No cookie. :("**

After Light caught up with the sergeant in the back of the unit: **"omg it's me! That's my cameo in this story." Hthar-actually, half my Lucil content could be considered a beta-roomie 'cameo'**

Next to Light's remarks about the drag of the boots as she ran: **"oh gross they're running in uniform? Bleh. Next you'll have them doing log runs through the sand."**

At Sazh's comment that Lucil wanted to get Maqui good for once: **"yeah she will. Get him REAL good. *heart*"**

After Lightning's remembrance of the stunt she'd heard Maqui had pulled: **"what I'm taking from this is that Maqui not only cross-dresses, but he also rocks it. :P"**

When Light dismisses her unit with a short spiel: **"omg you should just include about 'Don't Do Stupid Sh*t." YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. :D" Hthar-she is correct, as that is the typical end of day little rant we get in the military, but I've kept the language to a minimum in my fics**

At the mention of Lucil's pixie haircut: **"that sounds adorable"**

After Lucil's demonstration about the proper way to dislodge a gunblade: **"is that true? THE MORE YOU KNOW [with rainbow sketched over it]" Hthar-based on the collapsing mechanics of the gunblade, I assume this method would be best ;-)**

When Lucil sends the training class scurrying away: **"omg it's like if Toph was a gunblade instructor [Avatar: the Last Airbender reference]"**

After Lucil runs off and yells that she needs to get 'special' materials: **"Like condoms. And lube."**

Right after Light's thought of whether she wants to ask or not: **"I'm sure you can find a fanfic about it if you try, Light"**

And again, when Lightning reflects on how Maqui hit on Lucil while disguised as her: **"omg OT3 THIS IS THE SPIN OFF YOU NEED TO WRITE. :P (…Hope you can come too)"**

After the next reference to Lucil's 'special' materials: **"you are making this too easy :P"**

Following Lucil's instructions for what Light needs to wear and to tie up her hair: **"wow, she and Maqui have kinky sex, don't they?"**

Above Light's reaction to the bandannas: **"looololol haahaha!"**

When Hope stretches and gets dizzy: **"Oh no you cannot be sick again WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS 3 TIMES ALREADY JFC. :P"**

After Maqui mentions his need to recover from whatever crap he's caught: **"WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS CATCHING THE DEATH?"**

At the top of the page in gigantic letters for the entire scene where Hope is syrup-and-feathered: **"LOL~"**

Above the part where Lightning comes back on the scene to pull the hood off: **"Why is no one but Maqui laughing their butt off? Mistake or not, this is hilarious~~"**

When Lucil explains that it was a revenge plot: **"so not sex, then? Or is this weird and kinky foreplay?"**

After Hope says he looks like a bird-monster: **"New meaning to 'Bird Flu', really"**

At Hope's remark that he would rather not know what kinky stuff they're into: **"AMEN Hope *heart*"**

Beside Hope's thought that Light can be easily persuaded: **"bribing her with sex is really only something that you can do, Hope, FYI"**

Following Hope's quip about getting Light into coveralls: **"omg this entire chapter is just foreplay for a whole bucket of weird kinky sh*t, isn't it?"**

At Light's immediate response that she can't believe he's rubbing that in while in his miserable condition: **"I can't even. Not."**

Beside their banter over her immune system, and again shortly thereafter: **"oh god please do not have weird illness-honey-feathered sex right now. I WILL STOP READING. I AM NOT KIDDING I WILL GIVE THIS CHAPTER BACK UNREAD." Hthar-chill out. That's just gross -_-**

At Light's remark that the drinking and sex was unrelated: **"SURE." Hthar-notably, right before Lucil has the same response**

After the whole laundry segment: **"oh so melancholy~ :("**

When Hope asks Serah if the soup will make everything better, and she scoffs: **"ugh, these two are so goopy I'm going to be ill. GET A (PLATONIC SIBLING RELATIONSHIP) ROOM! ;P"**

When Hope's remark brings a pained look to Bartholomew's face: **":( awww"**

After Hope's thought about 'doubt missiles': "**cute analogy"**

When Serah points out that they may have just been waiting for the right emotional trigger: **"Serah would be the one to pinpoint emotional manipulation, wouldn't she? It's always the kind ones who can see it."**

At the very end: **"aww, bittersweet"**


	12. Around My Neck

**A/N: Aaaaand I'm sure there will be a few people who are disgruntled over the lateness of this update. I can sort of blame that one-shot for taking up precious writing time, with secondary factors coming from starting a language class and the continuation of obsessive nesting :P In any case, I'm sorry it's late, but rest assured that beta-roomie had more than enough fun editing what was a very dialogue-heavy chapter. These tend to drag – just rest assured that the content was essential to the plot. Thank you ALL for your patience and continuous favorites and reviews! I can't wait to see the speculation after this one XD**

**Oh yes, and I do have an interesting tid-bit of information:**

***On the subject of 50/50 fairness in a coin toss: In a December 2012 experiment, some UK scientist discovered that a coin toss is actually NEVER an even split for probability, but not for the reasons most people think, and it doesn't always favor one side or the other. He found that a coin toss will always have a 51-ish percent chance of landing on the side facing UP when the coin is initially flipped, and this is because of what they call "bias" on the spinning coin – it not only flips end over end, but spends some of that air time rotating around its axis, giving the top side a teensy bit more air time facing up, and therefore a slightly greater chance of being the result in a toss. People still speculate about the weighting of certain coins giving an advantage in a toss, but in the real world I only know of one specific example of this, and that is the US penny – almost all pennies are minted so that the heads side is heavier, giving them a tendency to land heads-down, so you have an 80-ish percent chance of getting tails on a penny flip. NOW, all that said, Cocoon coins are not the same as our currency :P**

[Songs for Chapter 12: "Not Enough" – Our Lady Peace; "Say It" – Blue October; "These Hard Times" – Matchbox Twenty; "This is the Last Time" – Keane; "Carry On" – Fun.]

Around My Neck

"Hope, this is bad business. I'm not just saying it as a friend, I'm telling you as a superior." The colonel looked up from the assortment of papers spread over the top of his desk, finally meeting Hope's increasingly frustrated stare.

"With all due respect, sir, what does that even mean?" he asked, throwing both hands toward the papers on the desk. "I've been rushing around for a week to get this proposal together, and there's evidence from everyone under the sun that it can work! Or would you rather sit around and wait for the hospital staff to march on Central?"

Hope pushed back from the desk and slumped into a chair, rubbing against the tension that had built between his eyebrows. "This isn't like the farmers and ranchers - if these people neglect their jobs for some strike, patients will suffer. And that will snowball into whole _families_ joining the protest, maybe even a majority of the population."

Releasing a tired breath, Miles leaned his cheek into one fist, his gray eyes swirling with impatience. "Are you finished?"

"For the moment, yes," Hope muttered.

"Good. I never said your proposal was flawed, or indicated refusal to act on the situation. What I _can't _approve of," he said, sitting up and crossing his arms, every inch the intimidating commandant that he occasionally opted to be, "is having you deliver the offer in person."

Struck dumb, Hope's mouth dropped open as he tried to form a defense, but nothing came to him for several seconds. When he finally did speak, it was only to ask, "_What_? Why?"

"You know perfectly well why," the colonel said matter-of-factly. "After what happened with the sabotage on our communications and the fireworks display, our leadership isn't quite sure who to trust anymore. Just because we only found one of the sentries guilty of deliberately tampering with the launch to hit the tower doesn't mean there aren't more in our ranks who sympathise with the Council's radical agenda."

"They'd be crazy to think I would twist this proposal to sabotage my own project," Hope replied, his voice soaked in disbelief. His mind was reeling with possibilities for what else he might've done wrong, particularly since he seemed to have been gaining ground with his reputation among the department heads.

From behind his desk, Miles smiled slightly and shook his head. "No, they aren't suspicious of you in this matter. If anything, you're one of the few people they feel sure _wouldn't _act against the safety of Central - the Council has given you nothing but trouble, and your own friends are the ones who stand to die if your project fails to delay a collapse, after all." Pulling the usual coin from his pocket, he flicked it directly at Hope's chest for him to snatch it out of the air.

"It's _my_ call that you not deliver the proposal, and it's for your own protection."

Hope clenched his fist around the coin and growled softly. "Sir, I didn't pack up and leave my family to be holed up in Central like a trained monkey in a cage. You made me Director of this project, and I _should _be the one dealing with a conflict of interest that came up because of my work here, whether or not it's _safe _for me to do it. Do you really think some Council lackies could hurt me, right there in the hospital?"

"I can't guess their full agenda, or what they're capable of anymore," Miles sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Last month, they allegedly dumped propaganda and gas into my facility and used our fireworks to blast the main tower - all while leaving us zero means to prove their guilt. Did you learn nothing from those threats, or from what happened to your friend?"

Flipping the coin himself, Hope caught it and planted his hands on the desk, facing down the colonel with a glint of defiance in his eyes as he declared, "I learned that protecting myself is just asking for more collateral damage. If they aren't hitting me, they're hitting the people _around _me, and I can't live with that."

"Well I'm sorry to tell you that I can. You really don't understand what's at stake." The colonel's steely stare was the surest indicator that he was unmoved, and Hope had to wonder if he would ever stand a chance in a battle of wills with his superior. It was doubtful.

_There's got to be a better approach._

Still feeling the dig of the coin in his hand, Hope turned up his palm and offered instead, "I understand that you can't fight random misfortune. Even if you didn't let me go to Ann in person this time, can't you admit that there's no guarantee you can keep me safe here indefinitely?"

"No one's safe indefinitely. We could all be crushed underneath Cocoon's shell within the hour, for all I know," Miles said coolly, his eyes narrowing. "What are you getting at?"

Hope smirked and stood back, positioning the coin on his thumb. "You're right - everyone has to die, and we_ might_ just die today. I could go to the hospital and _maybe_ get accosted by the Public Council, oryou could get your way and keep me locked up here to endanger myself sometime in the future. So why don't we just flip for it?"

"You know I don't have to do that. What I say goes, regardless," the colonel warned, but his face betrayed an eagerness to take the challenge, which Hope instantly pounced on.

"Isn't this a fairer way to decide it, though?" he asked innocently.

Laughing suddenly, as if he knew the oncoming punchline to a joke in progress, Miles just straightened the papers on his desk into a neat stack and folded his hands on top of them. "Fine. _You _pick heads or tails, and if I like the odds from there, you can flip for it."

"In that case, I choose... tails. Still a go?"

For some unfathomable reason, the colonel found his choice amusing - he chuckled to himself for several seconds before speaking up. "Hope, don't you know anything about a coin toss with Cocoon currency? If you have the chance to pick first, you'll always have a slight advantage with heads."

"Sure, I know about the weighting issue, but I'm not reneging. I feel like tails is right," Hope said with a shrug. "So... yes or no on the flip?"

Miles gave a short nod. "Go ahead."

Hope flicked the coin about a meter into the air, watching its rapid spin and praying that he hadn't lost his last chance at getting to Ann on a complete gamble. He caught it, slapped it onto the back of his other hand, and uncovered the results with a great sigh of relief.

"Tails. I guess luck's on my side today."

"Yes, but not in the way you think," the colonel remarked knowingly. He gestured at the silver item in Hope's hand. "Why don't you take a closer look at that lucky coin."

Pinching the gil piece between his fingers, Hope studied its halves and gasped out a broken laugh at what he saw.

"Where did you ever find a piece with tails on _both _sides?"

"I didn't find it," Miles replied tonelessly. "I had it made after the fall, with an exact impression of the back of a ten gil piece from Cocoon stamped on the front and back, just to make me feel like I had something of an edge against fate."

Hope turned the coin over and over, raising an eyebrow at the claim. "And how do you know fate will always choose heads?"

"Because fate doesn't play fair. It always strikes first - always takes the advantage. A person can either accept their lot in life or challenge it, but if they do choose the challenge, they'd best be prepared to bend the rules." He stated it with finality, holding out the pages of Hope's proposal for him to take back.

_Bending the rules against fate, huh. Like Fang and Vanille..._

_Or maybe like what I've been doing on this project._

Gripping the papers with trepidation, Hope charged, "You _knew _I was going to win. And you're okay with this?"

"I didn't know until you called it," Miles rebuffed as he rose to walk around from behind his desk. He stuck one hand in his pocket, pausing at the front corner of the polished wooden desktop, and brushed his free fingers over a paperweight in the shape of Cocoon, seemingly lost in thought. Feeling momentarily like an intruder on those thoughts, Hope awkwardly tried to offer the coin back, but the colonel just raised his hand and shook his head.

"Hold onto that, for now. In these nine years on Pulse, I've never had a sane person freely call for tails on my rigged coin. Take it as a compliment - when given the choice entirely on their own, most people will go with the side that's got the advantage, no matter how they feel."

With that, he strode to the door of his office, only offering in parting, "I leave the arrangements to you, as long as it's done within the week, but I expect a prompt report once you're finished with Ann."

"Thank you, sir," Hope called after him, rubbing his thumb over the coin he held for a long minute of deep consideration. The way Miles harped on fate and the rather self-serving nature of human beings sounded eerily similar to Lightning's dark lecture on the matter, and it disturbed him. Not because he couldn't relate, or that he didn't understand why they had drawn such conclusions, but because they were going through life as though the odds were stacked against them - as if the next big letdown was lurking just around the corner.

That scarred mentality left no room for healing. Hope didn't care if their view turned out to be accurate, or if it provided pessimists some measure of protection from tragedy whenever it struck - he only mourned what he saw. He had glimpsed that small, barren region on the surface of otherwise flawless hearts, a dead spot incapable of regenerating and flourishing anew. With time, and without tending, he had to wonder if it might spread like a desert, slowly laying waste to everything in its path.

Even so, Hope was determined to never let that happen to his wife or his mentor. Finally stuffing Miles' coin into his pocket, he slipped the pages of his proposal back into their file folder, switched off the light, and briskly walked away from the dark office.

There was nowhere to go but forward.

* * *

The hospital's front reception area was as cramped as Hope remembered from its clinic days - a strange point of comfort, considering the sprawling mass of the facility in its current state. He glanced over the few people in the chairs, though, and speculated that the addition of department-specific waiting rooms would've made it unnecessary to expand this one.

That, or this particular Thursday morning was uncharacteristically slow.

His companion cleared his throat and elbowed him in the ribs. "Dude, you know we're kinda early for my appointment," Maqui whispered.

"Just bear with me," Hope said between his teeth. He didn't recognise anyone in the vicinity, which was a relief, but it wouldn't be a good idea to stick around in one place for long. The whole idea of escorting Maqui to the hospital was _not _to arouse suspicion about his presence - he'd waited three days on pins and needles to take advantage of the opportunity.

Sighing in exasperation, Maqui settled into one of the chairs and stretched out his leg while Hope signed him in and took a clipboard from the reception desk. He made quick work of filling out the forms, returned them to the receptionist, and politely asked, "Miss, could you tell me which way we go for the external medicine department?"

"Just a moment," she mumbled, distracted as she skimmed over the information on the forms. She checked her console screen, her fingers briefly flying over a keyboard, and finally looked up at him. Her eyes widened before she blinked at him in confusion.

"Sir, you aren't the-"

"No. I'm just here as moral support for my broken buddy." He smiled amicably and gestured behind him at Maqui, who continued to sulk in his chair.

"Oh." The receptionist still seemed uneasy about something, and she further remarked, "You know it's quite a wait until his appointment..."

Nodding, Hope casually explained, "I've only got a little time free in my day - just enough to make sure he gets where he needs to be. He'll nap in the waiting room or something."

"Alright. In that case, it's through the east wing doors," she explained, pointing across the lobby, "all the way back, and to the left. You can't miss the signs."

"Perfect. Thank you." Returning to Maqui, Hope led the way into the east wing and down the quiet, pale hallway toward External Medicine. He read every sign they passed, his eyes peeled for those identifying individual doctor offices. They may have been exceptionally early for Maqui's appointment, but they were right on schedule for him to meet with Ann in her brief window of available time, as arranged.

_She's supposed to be close to Pediatrics. But where is that from here?_

Just past the halfway point, Hope spotted a branching passage with another list of directional signs at its entrance - Pediatrics was the third item down. He couldn't be sure if the hospital was fully monitored, however, and it would look suspicious to just abandon Maqui and deliberately take a new path, so Hope committed the location to memory and continued escorting him to the end of the hall.

A few minutes later, they got Maqui checked in to the department, brushed off another round of confused looks at the early arrival, and settled in to the waiting room. Maqui picked up a copy of the Settlement's weekly publication and appeared to zone out - Hope took it as a safe cue.

"Alright, I've got to head back," he casually remarked, standing and smoothing his pants. "Don't give the nurses any trouble." He ruffled Maqui's hair and earned a swat with the newspaper.

"Don't patronize me, idiot - I'm older than you."

"And so is Snow," Hope rebutted with a laugh, strolling to the double doors. "Call when you're heading out, okay?"

Maqui just muttered, "I'll think about it," and went back to reading.

Once he retraced his steps to the branching passage, Hope had no trouble finding Pediatrics and even less of an issue spotting a row of offices coming up on his left. A few different staff members rushed by him at intervals, but thankfully only one bothered to pause and question his presence on the hall, and it was simple enough to explain that he was an old friend of Ann's just dropping by on his way out. The middle-aged nurse honestly ended up being more help than hindrance - she led him straight to Ann's office and went to clear it with the doctor herself, leaving him to wait outside. He could see Ann sitting at her desk through the small window in the door, nodding as the nurse spoke to her. Suddenly, she looked up from the chart in her hands, smiled directly at him, and waved for him to enter.

Hope minutely returned the smile, swallowing down a sudden surge of anxiety as he walked through the door and held it for the nurse to leave. Once he'd closed the door, he knew there was no backing down.

"Good to see you, Hope," Ann greeted, standing behind her desk as he approached. "Though you should consider yourself lucky that I even recognised you. I suppose it _has _been a rough year." She shook his outstretched hand and he laughed, not at all surprised that the woman was frank as ever and still not one for hugs, even with people she considered family.

"An understatement, but you haven't changed a bit. Sorry I haven't dropped by more often." Hope cast a quick glance over the room as he took a profferred seat across the desk from her, unsure if the hospital used the same level of surveillance as Central. He didn't see anything that looked like a camera or recording device, though.

"You can relax, my boy," Ann said casually, cleaning her glasses. "There isn't nearly enough security equipment to go around in this place. Only the waiting rooms and hallways are really necessary, anyway." Looking back up, she eyed him over the rim of her spectacles.

"Even if I had a camera, it would be off. I fully expect you to be straight with me."

"And that's exactly what you'll get," Hope replied. "I trust you had a chance to look over the summary we faxed yesterday."

Ann held up a thin stack of papers in answer, its top page bearing the colonel's letterhead, then set it aside and folded her hands on the desk. "The gist is clear enough to me - you want the hospital to wait another four months for alternate power."

"Well, it certainly isn't what I_ want_," he rephrased, unable to get a read on whether she had meant that negatively or not. "It's just the soonest we can pull it off. The bulk of the windmill farm isn't projected to be completely operational until that time, and that's with a lot of additional badgering for longer workdays to speed up the process. They're going to try and make it happen two months ahead of schedule just for this."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, that's quite an improvement," Ann quickly interjected. "It would set us up well in advance of winter. But I'm still concerned about how the staff will react when I brief them on these developments. They're already at the breaking point with the equipment failures, and I fear this news will sound like nothing more than an excuse or a tangible assurance of delay - even though we both know that isn't accurate. If they're being offered a better deal from Council representatives, which looks to be the case, they may just take it."

Hope sighed, his brow furrowing slightly in frustration. "Won't they listen to facts, though? The generator they _think_ ought to be available - the one running Cocoon's stanchions - isn't configured for constant, everyday use, like the hospital needs. We don't know if it even has the _potential _to be powerful enough. And that's beside the obvious problem that it's already being used for a critical task."

"I believe you," the doctor said plainly. "I just know that my staff can't seem to decide who to trust, and that's the most crucial factor."

"But how can this many intelligent people _be_ like that?" Hope questioned, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "The Council isn't a board of mechanics or engineers - how could they possibly know if a power source is a feasible option or not? They're just making a bunch of assumptions!"

Shaking her head, Ann explained in a grave voice, "They know how to _sell _these assumptions, though. The depth to which my own colleagues have come to believe in this twisted idea that PSICOM is selfishly hording a power source astounds me. I hear them chat about it in the break room almost daily. And I fear that, as much as they trust my judgment, they may end up viewing me as an inside sympathiser for opposing them - primarily because of my connection to _you_."

"To _me_?" Hope asked incredulously. "Sure, I've known you for years because of my sister, but it's not like I have any say in your work here..." His eyes drifted to the papers of his proposal summary, noting that this very instance was a departure from that declaration.

Ann followed his eyes and chuckled drily. "Not until now, you didn't. But the staff already 'mysteriously' gained inside knowledge that we are 'suspiciously' connected," she emphasized, pausing to wave off the thought in disdain, "and I've heard them dare to say so. If the Council wants them to be up in arms about PSICOM's use of a backup generator for your project, they've likely presented your long-standing relationship with me, even if it's mainly just through Serah, as a threat. That was part of the reason I insisted on you 'turning up' in my office today, rather than scheduling an official meeting or going to Central myself. Of course, even this is a risk."

"I had to take responsibility for the impact of my project," Hope said hollowly, looking down at his hands. He couldn't fight the sense of helplessness that washed over him. "The intent was never to steal resources from a hospital; they need to know that PSICOM wants to fix the problem here."

_And I still think Dad's suggestion to draft and present this proposal was spot-on. He couldn't have known the Council was already a step ahead._

Hope heard the shuffling of paper and glanced up to see Ann perusing the summary again. She stopped suddenly, focusing on a particular page.

"These additional measures listed for the interim period... I take it they're meant to reinforce that goal."

Hope nodded, tightening his fists around the fabric above his knees. "If your staff doesn't think having standby maintenance personnel on site twenty-four seven can keep this place running, I don't know what they expect us to do. The guys who stepped up would be providing this service as volunteers, in addition to their regular jobs, and they're not just good enough to do it - they're _over_qualified. I screened them myself, and I'm also in the rotation."

"You've always dealt with things rather personally," Ann said with a knowing smile, but her eyes were not amused. "A mark of character, if dangerous."

He shrugged and grinned right back, eyes shining with conviction. "I don't like having to hide behind other people. Besides, a little variety could do me some good - isn't a moving target harder to hit?"

"Harder, but not impossible."

A sharp rapping on the door cut short whatever else Ann might have said on the subject, and both of them sat at attention. The doctor's jaw tightened noticeably when she looked past Hope to the entrance - the obvious stiffness of her smile as she motioned for the visitor to enter was unnerving. More than that, though, the quick and inconspicuous way she shuffled his proposal beneath a clipboard with her other hand made him wary of turning around to see who had arrived. Whoever it was clearly didn't need to get any ideas about his purpose with Ann.

Anxiety kicked in full force. Hope felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck once the door opened and clicked closed.

"Not interrupting something, am I? Your assistant assured me the schedule was clear up to lunch..."

_Oh Maker, this is worst case scenario, _Hope thought miserably, struggling to stay composed._ He must've been informed that I was here - it can't just be a coincidence. _

Hope didn't need to turn around to know. He had never forgotten the voice of the Council's chairman, and he never would. Just the sound of its slitheringly polite but intimidating tones seemed to suck the oxygen from the room.

His last thought before facing the inevitable was simple.

_If I come out of this in one piece, Miles is definitely going to lock me in Central._

* * *

"Bet you're looking forward to another trip outta this place, huh?" Lucil asked, huffing as she took another swing at the thick underbrush between their temporary camp and the known location of the pesky monsters they were after. "Nevermind the not knowing exactly _when _you get to go."

Just a couple of strides to her left, Lightning paused a moment to pick several pieces of vine out of her gunblade gears. They allowed the small training group to continue ahead with the work for a few paces.

"I'd be lying if I said I'd miss the paperwork," she replied, wrenching a particularly jammed piece loose, her eyes scrunched in concentration as she focused intently on the weapon. "At least this mission should be interesting - missions that actually serve a purpose tend to be. I like the idea of not wasting my time."

_And as much as I hate to admit it, now that I know more details about the situation in the Settlement, _everything_ I do here seems like a waste._

Laughing, Lucil mimicked her task and checked her own blade as she teased, "You're forgetting the extra perks. I doubt Hope's as 'mission minded' as you are about this visit."

"You'd be surprised," Lightning said flatly. "He's in charge of it, as an extension of his project. I'm sure he'll be nothing short of swamped."

"Doesn't make me any less jealous. I've got no clue when Maqui's planning to descend upon us unannounced again, but I doubt it'll happen before this expedition is wrapped up," Lucil replied, an unexpected note of real longing carrying with the words, no matter how much she smirked or tried to make light of it. The change snagged Lightning's attention from her gunblade, and she raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"You two are getting a little serious now, aren't you?"

Lucil rolled her eyes. "Don't look so surprised about it. Just because our relationship isn't as melodramatic as yours doesn't mean it can't be serious."

"I'm just making an observation," Lightning said plainly, moving forward again into the brush with no further comment. She could have said more, perhaps thrown out a warning against the struggles of carrying on a long-distance relationship, but both Lucil and Maqui had been privy to the strain it put on her marriage with Hope, and they still didn't appear to be deterred.

_Well, it is what it is. I guess we're all too stubborn for our own good. _

The training group was making decent progress just ahead of them, carving efficiently through the underbrush, but Lightning couldn't muster the will to appreciate the soldiers' efforts. She was barely invested in the seemingly pointless exercise at all. As the week wore on, something weightier had crept in and settled on her chest, pressing into her with ten times the force of her engagement pendant's cool metal backing - she could only describe it as a very unsettling premonition that her mind had yet to decipher. It was easy enough to assume that it had to do with Hope, though, and she made a mental note to call him the instant they'd completed training and returned to signal range.

Maker knew, given the tumultuous situation lately, that he was probably overdue for an incident.

* * *

Hope stood from the chair, taking his cue to leave. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he steeled his nerves and stiffly dipped his head toward Chairman Banon as he approached.

"Apologies. I was just leaving," Hope stated blankly, turning to nod at Ann with a forced smile. "It was good to see you again. I'll give Serah your best."

The chairman, however, spoke up before Hope had taken two steps. "Oh, there's no need to leave. It's quite fortunate you've turned up today - I believe we got off on the wrong foot the last time we met." He extended his hand, and Hope cringed imperceptibly as he shook it like a good professional.

_What I wouldn't give for my gloves._

He knew it was only a matter of fleeting minutes or seconds before his facade would crack and reveal the extreme discomfort he was feeling for the whole situation. It was time to get out.

"It's really a non-issue, sir - I can't dally away from work for too long," Hope tried, smiling wanly as he turned to make for the door again.

A hand on his shoulder, light though it was, stopped him dead. Hope felt a chilling surge of anger and disgust come and go - that rare desire to actually deck someone dying down as he quickly came to the conclusion that doing so would end badly. Decking people was not his forte, and his hands were better saved for other tasks.

_Maybe I could wring his neck... at a more appropriate time and place._

"I'm sure the good colonel can spare you for a few more minutes," Banon smoothly insisted. "You really ought to be party to this discussion anyway, but I've found it rather challenging to pin you down."

Hope had to forcibly eradicate the string of nasty rebuttals his mind suddenly concocted to answer that comment. It wouldn't do to bolt like a spooked animal, either, and Ann was in no position to defend him - not when she needed to do everything in her power to keep this manipulative man and his Council lackies from drawing her staff into a strike.

The writing was on the wall. He would have to ride out the discussion, pray it was short, and try not to make a fool of himself. The only difference between prior incidents and this one was that he had a slightly better understanding of the enemy.

_Alright, Dad, I'm really gonna need your help now..._

All those considerations flashed through Hope's mind in the span of a long breath, just enough time to get his bearings. He crossed his arms, faced the chairman with a more genial smile, and simply replied, "Well, you know how it's been lately - one emergency after another. I didn't realise you wanted to speak with me. Did you ever send a message to the command for me, specifically?"

"Quite a few, actually," Banon replied, the very slight smirk he'd worn since entering the room lifting a miniscule amount. Something seemed to light up behind his eyes - and not remotely in a _good _way - when he finished the thought.

"I believe your little mechanic friend had the last one. Did you not get it?"

Hope stalled, momentarily confused. He could think of no instance where Maqui had made contact with the Council, much less received a message from them. And if he had, he wouldn't have witheld it.

"Sir, I think you may be mistaken..." Hope began, focusing past the chairman as his eyes narrowed in concentrated thought.

Banon was quick to explain. "I don't believe I am. You certainly should've gotten it... when was that?" he mused, tapping his chin. "Oh yes, Saturday before last."

Realisation hit Hope in the chest with the force of a speeding velocycle, and he couldn't breathe. That Saturday had been the day of the fireworks display. The Council had sent a message with Maqui, all right - their orchestrated 'malfunction' incidentally broke his leg, and could have killed him. Not that it could be proven, or that Banon would ever openly admit to his involvement, but the chairman's meaning was clear.

For only the fourth time in his life, Hope really wanted to make someone suffer. He could feel the heat rising in his chest to unfreeze his lungs, his perplexed look now transformed into an open glare.

The single blessed thing that saved him from rash action was Ann's sudden involvement.

"Chairman, wouldn't you like to sit down?" she asked, calmly walking to retrieve a folding chair from against the wall. "I don't mean to sound rude, but my conference time will be ending soon, and I do intend to take a lunch break."

Deafened by the rush of blood in his ears, Hope didn't even hear the chairman's reply - he remained rigidly in place, fists at his sides as he followed the detestable man's movement in his periphery. Banon took the chair and sat across the desk from Ann, right next to the other chair already in place.

_What would Dad do? He warned me about the badgering - he told me I couldn't take it personally. But how can I _not_ take this personally? They've threatened _my _wife, injured_ my _best friend, and everything they do is jeopardizing _my _project!_

Even so, Hope knew he would have to try.

"There you have it, _Director _- I won't be able to take up too much of your precious time," the chairman said happily, waving at the open seat. Hope nodded and begrudgingly sat down. He tried to think of the positives while he stewed in his own personal hell, and the one thing that came to mind and stuck was that he'd get the benefit of hearing the Council's intentions straight from its leader's mouth, however cryptic that might be.

Ann checked her watch and met Banon's gaze unflinchingly. "So, let's hear what you have to say, Chairman."

"I mainly have a few questions," Banon said, briefly dusting at a spot on his sleeve. "I'm sure you already know _why_ I'm here, so I won't bother with stating the obvious. Now, let's get straight to the heart of it: Do you know how many times my representatives have gone directly to PSICOM to petition for reallocation of their facility's auxilary generator?"

"I can't say I would have any way of knowing that," Ann replied flatly.

Smirking again, the chairman shook his head. "Of course not. No one does, because the very idea of that petition is considered outrageous. PSICOM's backup power is supposed to be untouchable, and its designated use non-negotiable."

"And for good reason," Hope interjected, his voice tight as he forcibly kept the ire from his words. He clenched his hands in his lap with equal tension.

Banon batted away the comment like a pesky fly, easily countering, "I'm aware that it's less significant than you claim it to be. What would be your defense, hm? That the generator's power can repel Cocoon if the shell dies?"

"Obviously," Hope replied, unsure how the chairman could possibly use that line of argument to his advantage, but knowing that the man would never slip up in whatever strategy was in play. He could only wait for the dreaded other shoe to drop, so he added in his own defense, "And that's just part of its purpose."

"Ah, you must be referring to the theory that a concentrated energy surge might 'shock' Cocoon into firing up again." Banon snorted once and shook his head in a kind of amused disappointment, openly scoffing, "I'm afraid a small moon is a rather massive battery; the chances of ever making that work are pathetic at best, and you of all people would know it. You designed the system, correct?"

Hope felt his skin prickling with irritation, and he narrowed his eyes at the claim. "Even a slim chance is worth the effort if it can buy us energy and time. Besides, that doesn't diminish the importance of our system's use in repelling Cocoon. The shell stands to smash Central into a crater when it comes down, and if it isn't sent north immediately it will level the Settlement, too."

"Those are quite a few 'ifs,' Director," the chairman charged, suddenly stonefaced. The shift was unnerving - Hope had expected another round of subtle stabs, but Banon's expression and his dark eyes were dead serious now. Hope was unable to turn from them, and he prayed his own face hadn't betrayed his surprise. It was doubtful.

"You say the generator is indispensible _if_ it works," the chairman continued, driving his points home without pause, "and that's _if_ Cocoon collapses at all. You say 'when,' but the people of the Settlement aren't fools - they needn't be engineers or scientists to figure out that no one can predict the probable behavior of a gargantuan crystal ball on a spire that was crafted by Ragnarok itself."

"I'm not arguing numbers with you," Hope snapped defensively, fighting the urge to stand up. "It doesn't matter how probable the crash scenario is - no one can prove that it _won't _happen, and that's an unacceptable risk!"

From behind her desk, Ann cleared her throat in annoyance and tersely interjected, "Gentlemen, I'm no stranger to this line of reasoning. Not to be rude, but we are in my office, in the middle of my workday. I would appreciate it if you'd get to your point, Chairman."

Banon relaxed his intensity for a moment to allow a small, aggravatingly self-assured smile. "As luck would have it, I've just arrived. What would you say, Miss Ann, if I told you that generator isn't_ technically _required for its stated purpose at all?"

Mouth falling open in disbelief, Hope was lucky to hear Ann's response through the buzz of alarms in his mind. He blinked rapidly and ran a hasty hand through his hair, unable to imagine any way that the chairman would know the details necessary to back such a claim.

"I would say you're bluffing," Ann said curtly. "That or misinformed."

"Well, I am neither. Let me tell you a simple truth," Banon began, seemingly giving the doctor his full attention despite what Hope knew to be true - that the words he was about to speak were more aimed at him than at Ann.

"The fact is, Cocoon doesn't really require generator-driven voltage or electromagnetic force to start it rolling off in the proper direction, _if_ it were to crash," he said smoothly, turning his smug face to Hope again. "Does it, Director? Is there not a_ manual _provision in place?"

_Oh, this is bad..._

Hope felt his palms sweating, and his throat went dry. There would be no gaining the upper hand, not after such a reveal, and no_ partial_ truth he could craft would erase Ann's doubt after his own blindsided reaction. Moments before the chairman had issued those last statements, it was unthinkable that the Council could have such intimate knowledge of his project. Now, it was undeniable. Hope couldn't decide which was worse - that Edgar Banon was about to beat him and probably turn Ann against his proposal, or that the man had only acquired his ace in the hole because someone inside PSICOM, possibly his own crew, must have betrayed the project's confidentiality.

"Hope, is this true?" Ann's perplexed voice broke through his paralysis, her brow creasing further as she processed the accusation and his incriminating delay of response.

He took a deep breath to answer, but he couldn't face her. He had no recourse but honesty. "Strictly speaking, the stanchions should physically be enough to tip Cocoon in the right direction, though we can't run a true test," he explained, his tone devoid of life even as he added the caveat that meant everything to him - that seemingly minor issue of preserving the pillar. "The generator's force can propel it further and faster, to decrease the impact zone and possibly break it away from the pillar without... a full vertical descent."

"In other words, it's a luxury," Banon surmised, almost gleefully. "A tool to possibly spare the pillar and half of Central, at best."

Though he knew his words would likely be shot down, Hope emphatically countered, "That's not true! The fully operational system can save more_ lives_, even if it can only buy us seconds." He still refused to look at Ann - he didn't want to confirm the betrayed expression he imagined to be on her face.

"I suppose you could be talking about unfortunate PSICOM grunts who were too clumsy or slow to evacuate in time, but there wouldn't be many, and we all know those aren't the lives you're concerned with." The chairman's stare was so intense that Hope couldn't ignore its burn, even with his eyes diverted to his own fisted hands. Yes, the lives of his two precious, crystallized friends were what he cared most about saving, and he would never quite understand why a little twist of numbers always made people forget the value of individuals.

As if to drive the thorn deeper into Hope's side, Banon added confidently, "It's simple enough to understand that the assured safety for hundreds in this hospital far outweighs the hypothetical safety of one or two."

_Don't you dare speak their names, you..._

But the chairman had apparently made his point. He chuckled lightly and offered to Ann, "So you see, there really isn't any disagreement between my Council's needs, your hospital's needs, and Central's needs. When we lead this protest, we will win - you've nothing to fear for the well-being of your patients, and everything to gain by running on separate, stable power."

"You can't guarantee that," Ann was quick to reply. Her neutral tone gave Hope no indication of her feelings or intentions about his proposal, but he could still tell she was giving in. The doctor would have shut Banon down otherwise. She didn't have to keep listening, unless she wanted to.

The chairman was also keenly aware that he'd won. He relaxed in his seat, crossing his arms as he casually replied, "Actually, I can. I've never known the good colonel to hurt his citizens. He's well aware that hospital staff on strike means limited to zero staff tending to patients, and he would never risk their safety or their lives. Isn't that right, Director?"

Utterly out of options, Hope could only give the standard, noncommittal, "I can't speak directly for the commandant." But the chairman had hit the nail on the head. His words had perfectly encapsulated the reason they'd needed Hope's proposal to be accepted. Miles was in no position to drive a hard bargain, less so than usual since the population's confidence in their leadership had been shaken by the events of recent weeks. All the pieces had finally fallen into place, and Hope now saw the true intent behind the Council's dangerous tactics - it was simply a power play, probably the first in a series. If the hospital staff actually launched a protest now, the colonel would have no choice but to do his duty and give them what they requested while trying to preserve PSICOM's reputation in the process.

And Hope would lose his only quantifiable means of protecting Fang and Vanille. The more he thought about it, the more his heart sank, until it settled into his boots where it could be continually tread upon. Without power to the stanchions and rods, there was no chance of prolonging Cocoon's stability or blasting it just far enough to salvage most of the pillar in its collapse. Without that power, there was nothing to show for all his efforts over the past year. The only glimmer of hope that even remained was in the eventual expedition and Alyssa's unorthodox experimentation.

The march of Hope's despairing thoughts was only halted when Ann abruptly stood behind her desk.

"I will have to consult with the staff," she said with finality, straightening the papers on her desk. "For now, I'm going on lunch. I ask that you please keep your representatives from hassling any hospital personnel in the meantime, Chairman - I want a fair vote. Is that clear?"

"As crystal," Banon said winningly, standing to dip his head toward the doctor before turning to follow her out. He flashed a small grin at Hope in passing, only remarking as he reached the door, "Don't be a stranger, little Estheim. Your father had the potential to head the Sanctum if he hadn't been so idealistic - much like you are, but you're still young. You'll learn how the world works."

Then he strode out, leaving Hope to stare at the open doorway in bitter defeat. Edgar Banon couldn't have chosen more perfect words to pour acid into every doubt-inflicted wound Hope had collected over the years. His idealism had earned him lashes from loved ones and enemies alike, but it usually paid off in the end. He would stubbornly stick by what he knew to be right until the future he'd envisioned came to pass, and that was how he had survived since restarting life after crystalstasis.

Only now, things had taken a real turn for the worse. The universe didn't seem to register that what was happening was wrong - or as Miles would say, fate didn't seem to care. It was still happening.

_And what am I going to do about it?_

Hope numbly rose from his chair and stepped into the hall, holding a hand to his head as he struggled to compose the chaos in his mind. He closed the other hand around the lucky coin in his pocket - more of a grounding force than a real source of comfort. A minute or so later, he hazily registered that he didn't recognise whatever hall it was that he'd wandered down, and he made a half-hearted attempt to read a nearby sign.

"Immunizations?" Hope read aloud as he tried to recall whether that section had been listed in the vicinity of Pediatrics.

_I must've passed Obstetrics somewhere, maybe even the pharmacy..._

"Hey there, Director," a somewhat familiar voice announced to his right, and he jumped in surprise, turning cautiously toward the sound.

"Whoa, it's just me. You look kinda lost."

Hope quickly identified the blue-eyed sentry as PFC Noel Kreiss, from many mornings on gate duty and from the recent evacuation. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Kreiss, isn't it? What are you doing here?"

The sentry laughed, immediately correcting, "You can call me Noel. And I came here to get shot up with about a dozen vaccinations, courtesy of signing on to serve the Cavalry and its exotic pets. Fun morning, let me tell you." He proudly pointed to the multitude of colorful bandages decorating both arms - a gesture that vaguely reminded Hope of Snow, mainly because it was unclear whether he considered his own physique or the amount of bandages more impressive. As it was for Lightning in the GC uniform, the sleeveless style of the Cavalry's summer wear just gave people like Noel the added bonus of showing off.

All that aside, Hope cringed at the sight, briefly feeling a cold sweat ripple over his skin. He was beyond grateful to have avoided shots since his final antiviral treatments years prior. A dozen in a row would be nothing short of a nightmare come to life.

"Um, you're turning a little green," Noel remarked, head tilted as he fought a smirk. "Don't tell me you're afraid of needles."

Narrowing his eyes, Hope stuffed his hands into his pockets and fired back, "I have my reasons - not that it's any of your business."

"Okay, okay. Fair enough." Noel raised his hands in defense, finally lowering them once Hope stopped bristling and leaned against the wall instead, sinking inward to his thoughts.

_I've got to get out of this place._

"So..." Noel began tentatively, "_Are _you lost? Because I'm on my way out."

Hope nodded minutely. "I need to head back to Central."

"Alrighty then - let's go." Waving his hand for Hope to follow, Noel casually strode down the hallway and added as an afterthought, "I've gotta pick up some transfer paperwork there, anyway."

Hope made a weak attempt at small talk as they navigated the expansive facility - it was all he could manage while on autopilot. "So I take it you passed the Cavalry quals."

Chuckling, Noel quipped, "Yeah, thanks for making it sound like _such _an accomplishment! I figured you of all people would know about Snow's infamous standards for his expeditionary force."

"Haven't seen them at work in the field, really," Hope replied with a shrug. "I assume handling monsters would require some pretty rigorous physical training, though."

Noel backed off his pace slightly to match Hope's and cast a skeptical, if amused, sideways glance at him. "That's more of an _all _military requirement, as your badass wife would tell you. The hardest part of Cavalry qualification is actually a written field test - bestiary, plantlife, weather patterns, terrain... you name it! We spent over a week wandering out there with specialists, or sitting in a classroom, or poring over dusty old tomes," Noel recounted, blowing out a heavy breath as he ran a hand through his hair. "Next week we _finally_ get introductory training on the specific monsters we work with."

"They don't test you on that _before _you're inducted?" Hope asked incredulously, showing some real interest in the distraction for once. By that point, they were already back in the front lobby and headed for the exit, a shift that multiplied his need to keep his mind from chewing on what awaited him in Central. That was one sure fire way to get _more _worked up.

As he held the door, Noel fixed his bright eyes on him with a look of disbelief and chuckled once. "You don't know much about military screening, huh?"

"Should I?" Hope deadpanned. He was trying not to let his eye catch the not-so-distant west gate to Central, dragging his feet once his escort moved on again.

"Well, you're surrounded by soldiers - I guess I just assumed you'd ferret out a load of information on them," Noel said candidly. "Definitely had you pegged as the curious type."

Hope couldn't help but snort at the suggestion. "Sure, but I'm not curious about _everything_. Depends on the subject."

"Subject as in 'mechanical engineering' or subject as in your wife?" Noel teased, and Hope fought the sudden urge to elbow him in the ribs - in that moment, he once again sounded very much like the other jokesters he was used to dealing with.

_Ha, this one's really gonna hit it off with Snow._

Laughing outright, Hope continued to pointedly ignore the gate that was looming ever closer with each step. "Oh, all of the above. I may put a lot of time and energy into my machines and projects, but they aren't the center of my universe. Light is."

"Heh, that would be _unforgivably_ sappy if I didn't know you meant it. I can't help being a little jealous, but that's life for ya," Noel said with a comical sigh, fishing around in his pockets for his ID card as they neared the entrance.

Hope just countered glibly, "I would warn you never to make a move on Lightning, but she'd maim you herself for trying."

"Yeah, I believe it," Noel muttered. "Good thing there's zero chance I'd go for someone like her, anyway. She's not even close to my type."

"Not even close? But didn't you just say...?" Hope raised an eyebrow, perplexed by the apparent contradiction of the sentry's claims.

Noel finally retrieved his card and paused before reaching the guard shack, shaking his head as he issued a hollow laugh. "I never said I was jealous of _you_. Look, just... do me a favor and don't let this command suck out your soul, alright? Whatever makes you happy, you should go for it."

With that, he cracked a smile in parting and stepped up to the sentry on duty, leaving Hope to his thoughts. It took him a few seconds to register precisely what Noel had meant, and once he did, he just rubbed the back of his neck and blinked rapidly at the ground, blushing and a little confounded. He wasn't sure whether to be more flattered by the young man - who was, objectively speaking, attractive - or exasperated by his own obliviousness.

_Okay. So... that explains a few things. At least being this dense to flirtation - from _either _gender - spares me a lot of awkwardness._

Shaking himself, Hope took a cleansing breath. As he returned to the present and stared up at the dreaded west entrance again, dwarfed by the spiny and ominously glowing underbelly of Cocoon, he decided that _any _other emotion was better than feeling utterly hopeless and defeated, which was exactly what threatened to resurface along with recalling his objective. He knew that Miles was going to be even more disappointed than he was himself, once he got the news.

But he had to report. This responsibility rested solely on his shoulders, bearing down like the crushing weight of Cocoon. With heavy steps, Hope approached the gate, silently checked in, and started the long walk toward what was certain to be the beginning of the end of his project.

* * *

**Endnote: And the beta-roomie strikes again! I was cracking up at her comments throughout, so please enjoy:**

Where Miles sums up all the craziness caused by the Council recently and asks if Hope learned nothing: **Thank you for being practical, Miles**

When Hope suggests that the coin toss would be fairer: **You are such a manipulative little sh*t, Hope, honestly.**

As beta-roomie began to read the considerations about the coin toss: **…wtf it's FIFTY FIFTY either way Miles wtf is wrong with you? Did you fail math? Is math not a thing in this world? I am so unnecessarily outraged by this seriously wtf :(" **Hthar – and now you all know why I put in that super-long intro piece explaining coin flips!

As their discussion continued over the coin toss: **don't tell me the coins are weighted I will FREAK OUT AT YOU. shut up STOP DESTROYING MATH. [at Miles' explaining the heads advantage] NO YOU DON'T SHUT UP MILES U R DRUNK GO HOME. I hate you for this a little Hthar. :( FROWNY FACE IS FROWNY**

Aaaand when beta-roomie got over the rant and finally got around to the double-sided coin bit: **…MILES I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU AT ALL WTF**

When Hope questions why fate would always choose heads: **[insert angry comic face of Wreck It Ralph] IT DOESN'T I AM GOING TO KILL THIS CHAPTER OUT OF RAGE I'M GONNA WRECK IT! Shut up shut up I DON'T CARE THAT IT'S ON A DIFFERENT WORLD. **Hthar – she did explain to me that she wasn't really mad, just ranting for funsies.

When Miles remarks that he didn't know the outcome until Hope called it: **You are still a cheating sunuvab*tch, dude fyi**

After he tells Hope to take choosing tails as a compliment: **Maybe Hope thinks weighted coins are bullsh*t too.**

Once Ann comes on the scene: **aw I miss Ann :)**

When Hope rants that people are making a bunch of assumptions: **wait, you mean people jump to conclusions without consulting experts? Whaaaat?**

After Ann explains that her connection to him is a danger: **very good point, Ann**

When Hope explains that PSICOM wants to fix the problem: **hey, remember when PSICOM was totes evil? GOOD TIMES. That was only like, one story ago.**

As Ann remarks that it's difficult but not impossible for Hope to be caught: **I officially want more Ann all the time, fyi**

Right after Hope's though that Miles is going to lock him up: **DUN DUN DUNNNN**

After Lucil's comment that her relationship with Maqui doesn't need to be melodramatic to be serious: **throw in a deadly virus or two; it'll get serious in no time :D**

When Hope thinks about how he wants his gloves when shaking the chairman's hand: **I bet he's slimy**

And when the chairman put a hand on his shoulder: **OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST TOUCH HIM SON OH HELL NO YOU DID NOT—**

After Hope considers that his only advantage this time is slightly better understanding of the enemy: **also, he might have recording devices, Hope, please keep that in mind**

The instant Banon mentions that they'd sent the last message with his mechanic friend: **OH NO YOU DID NOT YOU SCUM B*TCH omfg Hope he's threatening you omfg GET OUT OF THERE**

When Hope explains that probability isn't the issue, but any risk is unacceptable in this situation: **oooh, bad defense, Hope**

Above Banon's comment about the 'unfortunate PSICOM grunts' who would might die in a collapse: **oh DICKWEASEL those grunts are working for the citizens omfg**

When Hope is still considering how this will endanger Fang and Vanille: **Hope does seem rather selfish in this discussion, even if Banon is a dickweed.**

After Hope tells Noel that it's none of his business: **wow Hope, you are SO defensive with people you don't know, it's hilarious. And a little sad.**

When Noel explains that he isn't jealous of Hope: **omg is he jealous of Light? I LOVE IT THAT'S ADORABLE**

And once Hope stumbled upon the same conclusion: **omg SO CUTE I LOVE IT Hope/Noel is totally my secondary Hope ship :D you included this for me, didn't you? lol (obviously Hope/Light is #1, but still it's PRECIOUS :P) **Hthar – admittedly, I kind of did :P I also thought it would be a fun shout-out to a totally different popular ship out there.


	13. Walls Come Down

**A/N: Yeah, I know this update is ridiculously late – a few reviewers received fair warning that it would be at least a week late due to beta-roomie's good friend being in town, but what NONE of my readership (or myself) predicted was her ordeal with a dental operation gone bad, which totally incapacitated her for a few additional days. I think she deserves a round of applause for doing my edits this week at all! Apparently, March has been a bad month for her for 6 years running o.0 All's well that ends well, I guess. Happy upcoming April, and please read and review! Next chapter's extremely crucial. Thank you all for your patience and support thus far ^_^**

**Also, mild disclaimer: Pardon the sensitive issues discussed in this chapter. Not that the rating isn't already appropriate, I just felt the need to give a head's up :-/**

Walls Come Down

[Songs for chapter 13: "Refuge" - Our Lady Peace; "This Is Not Your Year" - the Weepies; "A Quiet Mind" - Blue October; "Breathe" – Anberlin; "Faith Enough" - Jars of Clay; "Tuesday" – Vimana; "Lifeboats" - Snow Patrol; "Stars" - the Weepies; "Comes and Goes in Waves" - Greg Laslow]

Lightning dialed the number for what felt like the thousandth time, tiredly propping the comm unit next to her ear. After another minute of somewhat static-laden ringing, she snapped it closed and ran a hand over her face.

At this point, she was beyond impatient and pushing the edges of frantic.

_Why won't he pick up?_

_Or why _can't_ he pick up..._

Dusky shafts of light shifted across her face as the tent flap was lifted, and she squinted up to see Lucil barging into their tent with a hefty sack of something. She relinquished the load with a grunt and cracked her back.

"Holy Etro! I'm _so _not a fan of monster fangs," Lucil huffed, collapsing onto her cot. "Hard to believe the damn things can hold so many teeth!"

Lightning refocused her eyes on her comm unit, considering whether to dial Hope again while she mechanically acknowledged Lucil's complaint.

"It's not a bad thing. They'll go into the fund for trading with the Aerma villagers," Lightning remarked. "At least this group of trainees took well to carcass prep, or we would've been smelling dead gorgonopsid all night."

Lucil just issued a guttural sound of exasperation and finally rolled her head toward Lightning, somehow mustering the energy to look concerned as she asked, "You haven't gotten through yet?"

"No." Lightning did not want to speculate over the reasons, but she knew Lucil would try anyway, so she braced for the inevitable.

"You know he's probably just stuck somewhere in Central with no reception, like the enclosure, right?" Lucil suggested as she fully shifted onto her side on the cot.

Lightning just leaned back on her hands, letting the communicator rest in her lap. She still stared intently at the device while she tried to decide whether to air her concerns or not.

_Why is he still working this late, though? I thought we had a pretty good routine going..._

_Then again, he might've tried to call me earlier and explain whatever's happening now, but he wouldn't have gotten through._

After several long seconds of silence, she just muttered, "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll keep trying."

Lucil pushed herself up from the cot and stood, stretching as she dragged herself back toward the tent flap. "Fine, just take a break for dinner, will ya? They're turning _something _on the spit out there - no idea what bits, but it smells amazing."

Right then, the idea of _any _monster bits, however nicely prepared, did not sound appetizing. "No thanks. I think I'll just turn in early," Lightning replied, and she actually did muster a yawn.

_Just when I start to think I'm getting more sleep..._

Lucil rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand. "You're hopeless - and please don't take that the wrong way. I'm bringing you a plate whether you like it or not."

With that, she finally left Lightning to her own devices again. Her hand cautiously went for the comm unit, almost as if a wrong move could spook the thing into not working, and she began to dial Hope's number again.

Lightning nearly jumped out of her skin when the communicator issued a piercing series of beeps. She fumbled and almost dropped it before finally composing herself to press the button and answer.

"Hello?"

She heard him take a reluctant breath, and knew it was Hope before the first words left his mouth. "Light, I am _so _sorry-"

"What happened?" she immediately interjected, not remotely interested in an apology when all she needed was the explanation.

"It's been a _really _long day..." He certainly sounded as fatigued as she felt, sighing heavily before he asked her outright, "Would you prefer the highlights, or all the juicy details?"

Lightning rubbed at the tension between her eyebrows and said simply, "Just give me a summary. It's probably not a good time to go slogging through the rest of it - you sound tired."

"Ha, too tired to care what I sound like anymore," Hope joked half-heartedly. "But you don't sound much better yourself. Rough day in the field?"

Lightning wagged her head at that pathetic truth. "Not in the usual sense - training went fine, but I had a bad feeling that something was wrong. Killed the day waiting to call you and then _trying _to call," she explained. Suddenly restless, she got up from the floor and began pacing the tight space of the base camp tent.

On the other end of the line, she heard Hope grumbling softly to himself before he finally said, "Can't fight the Farron intuition. I guess I can at least put your mind at ease now." He paused and huffed out a breath.

"Long story short, in the battle between the Council's demands and my project, I lost. PSICOM's going to accept their petition to use the auxiliary generator before the hospital staff can even try to strike."

The stuffy tent abruptly became a vacuum, and it took Lightning a few moments to really catch her breath to reply. "But your proposal-"

"Was outmatched," Hope cut in tersely. "I still don't know how, but word reached the Council chairman that the stanchions could theoretically act as a physical buffer even without power. And in an operation where everything is essentially theoretical, that argument stands. He _knew_..."

Hope couldn't complete the sentence - whether because he was too infuriated or incredulous Lightning couldn't say. She could only wait for him to finish and let her down from the ledge of anxiety she stood upon.

She heard his breathing pick up before he finally confessed, "He knew the primary purpose of my generator-driven system was to jump-start or accelerate Cocoon... mainly to protect the pillar. And _that's _where I lost. Banon twisted it into a battle between hundreds of hospital patients and two crystallized l'Cie. Ann had no choice but to go with the obvious side."

Several beats of silence stretched between them as Lightning stood in the middle of the tent, paralyzed once the truth sank in. When her body eventually reanimated, she felt utterly drained, and she mechanically moved to sit on the nearest cot.

_Fang and Vanille... How can we help them now? It might've been a slim chance that we could do anything before, but that's better than _nothing.

And what was there to say to Hope, who was now sitting in the wreckage of months of hard work as he bore the brunt of responsibility for his project's failure? No right words existed. Lightning realised that nothing she said or did could lessen the blow, but she closed her eyes and strained her overtaxed mind for some useful response, up until she felt the dull twinge of an oncoming headache.

Sighing, she just muttered, "What are we going to do?"

"Carry on smartly," Hope declared with a sarcastic enthusiasm in his voice. "In the words of Snow, anyway. He's getting pretty thoroughly militarized out here with the Cavalry, but I'm grateful they haven't made a dent in his optimism - at least he and the team are still focused on the expedition. That's all I've really got to look forward to now."

"So the expedition's still on?" Lightning immediately asked, sensing a slight lift in her own spirits.

Briefly, she heard a booming, distorted voice in the background and recognised it as Snow's. Hope apparently covered the receiver, but his muffled and mildly annoyed dismissal of the interrupting party still came through.

"Of _course _she picked up - who do you think I'm talking to? No, not now. I'll go over there when I'm ready, thanks..."

Lightning snorted. "Chow time?"

"You guessed it," Hope muttered.

"I should let you go," she replied, adding as an afterthought, "It can't be as bad as Central's food, right? I'm assuming you're at Cavalry HQ right now."

Laughing, Hope quickly clarified, "Actually, this is the Cavalry field base. Part of the reason it took me so long to call was the glorious chocobo jaunt to get all the way out here. Weren't you wondering why the signal was so clean?"

"You say that like I'm another tech geek," Lightning deadpanned. "I had plenty of other things to wonder about."

She could picture the sheepish expression on his face when he just replied, "Hmph, true enough."

"I'm honestly surprised, though. You went pretty far out of the way just to bask in Snow's optimism." Lightning smirked to herself, secretly thankful for her brother-in-law's existence yet again. The man could be aggravating, but at least she wouldn't fear for Hope's safety when Snow was right there - whether he needed protection from a plethora of enemies or just himself. And right now, he needed both.

The remark earned her a round of genuine chuckles from Hope, who took several seconds to calm himself. Finally, he released a long breath, the words carried on it seeming to come out of nowhere.

"Light, you really do make me happy."

"Among other things, I'm sure," Lightning muttered in response, wondering just where he was going with such an obvious statement. If she could see him, she would also see a good bit of what was going on in his convoluted mind written plainly on his face, but that wasn't an option.

When he spoke again, Hope's direction became much clearer. "I-I guess I was just thinking..." he stammered, hesitating before he continued, "Are you happy with me or just... miserable, mostly?"

Groaning as she buried her face in her hand, Lightning huffed, "Why do you beat yourself up so much? The whole reason we've both been so miserable lately is _because _we're happy together. It's that simple." She paused for a moment, though, her eyes widening minutely as she remembered a similar doubt she'd experienced herself on the day they had returned from the Settlement. Seeing that picture of him and Maqui in the hangar, looking carefree and cheerful, had genuinely made her question whether her return had been for the best in Hope's case.

On the heels of that thought, Lightning quickly added, "And before you ask, _no_, I wouldn't be happier if I'd never let you into my life in the first place."

She heard Hope make a few false starts on his response, his voice catching and releasing before he softly replied, "Alright."

They were quiet for a minute afterward, calmly taking in the sounds of each other's breathing and enjoying the short reprieve from the day's landslide of worries. Eventually, Lightning lay back on the cot and closed her eyes. She could feel herself drifting off, but didn't care one bit.

"Light, are you still there?" Hope asked tentatively, and she cracked her eyes open again.

"Mm, yes," Lightning mumbled, then yawned. "But I should get off the comms before I pass out. Go get chow or I'll call Serah on you, got it?"

"Ooh, threatening me now," Hope teased. His voice made a complete turnaround when he started into his goodbyes, however, with a different note of concern invading the usual regretful tone.

"Guess I'll go, then. But... it's still pretty early. Are you sure everything's okay? It doesn't sound like you caught that icky cold from me..."

Lightning grumbled to herself and shifted onto her side, rolling her eyes at his obsessiveness. "That's because I _didn't _catch it. Remember the part where you said 'it's been a long day'? Well, it has. I'm tired, wonder of wonders."

"O-kay," Hope replied, still sounding unconvinced, and Lightning gave herself a mental beating for getting so defensive. That just made him think he'd hit a nerve.

_Stupid move. Ugh, I'm too tired for this..._

"Really, Hope, I'm perfectly fine," she explained anyway. "Spend a day bushwhacking and dispatching a pack of gorgonopsids and you tend to wear yourself out."

At that, he laughed drily and finally conceded, "Okay. I'll let you sleep it off, then. I love you."

"Love you, too," Lightning breathed into the receiver, shutting the device and stuffing it back into whatever pocket was nearest in reach. The relief from knowing the facts of Hope's situation dissolved the last of what forces had kept her alert. It seemed she'd barely closed her eyes when the heavy blanket of unconsciousness covered her in its deep, welcoming darkness.

* * *

Hope slumped against the outer wall, loosely gripping the communicator as he tilted his head back to drink in the sky. From the Second Cavalry field base's position on an extensive plateau, he could barely see the distant patch of light twinkling from the Settlement, and Cocoon's glow could no longer fade the piercing beauty of the real stars. The longer he stared, the calmer he felt, as if he hadn't really taken a free breath in months, before tonight. And maybe he hadn't.

With his head clear, Hope just allowed his mind to dance around wherever it wanted - he wondered if their position was in some unfamiliar part of the Archylte Steppe or just similar terrain, wondered precisely how far they were from Aerma Proper, and quickly came back around to wondering about Lightning.

_Oh well. I'm sure her sleeping routine's been as erratic as mine-_

"Hey, ya still on there?" Snow had popped his head out through the doorway, the sudden sound of his voice making Hope jump and whip toward it like a startled cat.

He shook himself and slipped the comm unit into his pocket. "Be thankful - Light insisted that I give the chow here a try."

"Hate to break it to ya buddy, but that was gonna happen one way or another," Snow said, something about the promise with that cocky grin even more assured than Lightning's threat. "We don't skip meals out here - it can make you a liability." He swaggered out of the softly lit interior and joined Hope against the wall, a towering shadow in the semi-darkness that Hope felt certain would still intimidate the wildlife. It occurred to him that no one was better suited to be running this sort of outpost than Snow, and that the lifestyle suited him right back.

He wished he were so lucky.

"So, you divine anything from the constellations? I'd hate to interrupt," Snow joked, nudging his arm with a fist.

Hope gave a half-hearted laugh and shook his head. "Just thinking... overthinking, really. My intuition's a little scrambled - too many targets, and I think I'm locking on to the wrong one."

"Well, uh... just my humble opinion on the subject, but how do you know you're wrong if your intuition is off?"

"I don't," Hope sighed. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair and stuck both hands in his pockets, blinking up at the sky one more time. Snow just planted a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon, let's go in. Spend a couple days around this place and that jumbled thinking problem should clear right up."

"Guess I'll have to take your word on it," Hope replied, smiling to himself - there were few things in life he'd found to be more reliable than Snow's word, a fact he'd come to appreciate as early as the reunion with his father in Palumpolum during their l'Cie journey. With a sense of security in that thought, he turned to follow Snow into the building.

_Maybe I can get myself back together out here._

* * *

The next few weeks seemed to fly by, their details a blurry mess of activity. Hope bounced back and forth between electrical work to reallocate the auxiliary power and frequent trips to the Second Cavalry field base to escape. Meanwhile, an aggravating slew of investigations into every member privy to the details of former _Operation Undergird_ was underway, in an attempt to smoke out the rat responsible for leaking information.

Hope had never been so relieved when all the suspects turned up clean. The lack of a foundation for any of his team members to have intentionally sold out the project most likely meant that it was due to fringe factors - incidental disclosure, access to records or the site by unauthorized individuals, or a combination of both.

It was that, or someone in the upper leadership was responsible. If that was the case, it would become the colonel's duty to tear them a new one. Their screening process was quickly drawing to a close, but Hope was tempted to request that Miles keep the results to himself in the end. He had enough untrustworthy people in his life without adding to the list. Every new name over the years only served to erode his positive attitude toward people's redeeming qualities.

Thankfully, he'd found an excellent way to reinforce that positive attitude. In between all the hectic, energy-infused days of Hope's work week with the team of mechanics and electricians rerouting power to the hospital, Hope had taken to making weekend journeys out to visit Snow at the field base and recharge, in a sense, around the encouraging atmosphere. Unlike everything happening in the Settlement, where his entire year's work was slowly being unraveled - and in a literal sense it was, considering all the wiring that had been undone - the Cavalry was putting its efforts into goals that could still be realised.

The only thing that Hope, Maqui, and the engineering team had ultimately accomplished in Central was the installment of an independent evacuation alarm system. It alone remained connected to the facility.

But out in the field, at what constituted the farthest eastern barrier between known civilization and the rest of Pulse, Snow and his unit were protecting the frontier and taming beasts on a daily basis, advancing with the adamantoise operation, and preparing one small team for the eventual expedition inside Cocoon. Every week, they reached new milestones.

And every weekend, Hope gathered updates while he tried to make himself useful around the base - mostly through weapon and small device repair. There were no electrical lines running that far into the wild, so the site operated on daylight hours, only utilizing solar lanterns after dark in the chow hall and barracks rooms, or for nighttime watches at a minimum. Snow had explained that the resulting limited visibility of their cluster of low buildings was beneficial and attracted few to no hostile monsters.

Hope was just glad of the break from any electrical work.

At the end of the fifth week since the auxiliary power reallocation began, the last of any on-site removal and repair in the enclosure was wrapped up. Hope sent the team of engineers home a final time, thanking them all for their excellent work, and watched with a heavy heart as the group badged out one by one. It felt like the world as he knew it was shifting again while he remained rooted in place, and the sensation left him dizzy. He leaned against a nearby stanchion and blinked rapidly at the ground, trying not to be overwhelmed.

"We'll still see you around, my boy," Sal offered, his voice catching Hope off-guard even more so than the extended hand invading his line of vision. The scruffy man had apparently hung back from the group.

Hope quickly gathered himself and shook Sal's hand, laughing once at how dazed he honestly felt. "I hope so. I wasn't kidding when I said working with you guys made it possible to _survive _this year. If I had it to do over, I might train to be an engineer just to hang around other engineers!"

"Heh, you'd regret that," Sal countered. He chuckled at the proclamation and elaborated, "We drink too much for your type. I'd say you've got plenty of skills to make your place in the world, anyway - can't be a jack of all trades."

Hope nodded sagely, his eyes momentarily unfocused as the usual possibilities for the near future flashed through his mind - staying to work under Miles in some capacity, returning to Aerma Proper for transport runs or repair jobs as before, or taking on some other developmental project yet to come.

"I'll figure it out," he said, straightening up and smiling at Sal's concern. "In the meantime, you take care of yourself, okay? No safety risks, and that definitely includes no drinking on the job. Didn't you say you had... how many kids, again?"

"Eh, just five of 'em." Sal shrugged and full belly-laughed when Hope's eyes went wide, adding fondly, "They're the best five not-quite-decisions of my life."

Turning to head out, he patted Hope on the shoulder and meandered toward the exit, offering some parting words along the way.

"Only advice I can give you is to make the most o' the opportunities you get, but above all you'd better do right by the people you love."

"Thanks, Sal," Hope called after him, waving one last time. "I'll remember that."

After the door closed, once he was left in the deafening silence of the enclosure again, Hope found himself staring up at the towering crystal pillar. He supposed that, in light of Sal's advice, all his efforts which seemed to have ended in failure weren't completely a waste - not while Fang and Vanille's lives hung in the balance. He couldn't have known that the main project would be aborted in the long run. At least it had raised some awareness, and the off-shoots could still do some good if Alyssa's research or the expedition into Cocoon yielded results.

_It's going to have to be enough, _Hope thought as he tore his eyes away and strode quickly toward the south exit. _We can still fix this._

Outside, the commercial district was coming alive in preparation for Friday evening's oncoming rush, but Hope was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't return to reality until he'd crossed the Settlement and was bodily intercepted by Maqui just outside Cavalry HQ.

"Dude, I asked you a question," he reiterated, shaking Hope by the shoulders. "Are we supposed to take extra greens with us, or are these chocobos good to go the whole way?"

Hope blinked rapidly as he took in the impatient expression on his friend's face. "O-oh, um... They should be good to go," he stammered, and Maqui immediately began dragging him by the arm.

"Let's go, then! I dunno what took you so long, but they won't let us ride if it's gonna be dark before we can get to the field base."

"Right, sorry," Hope muttered, stumbling over a rock hidden in the grass as they hurried toward the chocobo stalls. "I-I take it your leg's really one-hundred percent now..."

Maqui just laughed. "More or less. Either way, you've got no advantage on a chocobo!"

"It's not a race," Hope refuted, turning his attention to the stalls of saddled birds. All but three had been claimed for the transit, and the number quickly dwindled to two once a flustered soldier ran onto the scene and released the chocobo in the first stall. She swung atop her ride and darted off without sparing a word.

Looking again between the remaining chocobos, Hope smiled to himself as he identified the one he usually chose - it was something of a runt, with a few odd white feathers flecking the underside of its neck. Most of the time, it was the last pick for the rest of the soldiers, but that just made life easier on Hope.

The runt chocobo cocked its head to one side at his approach, and Hope mirrored the gesture. They were becoming friends - or so he liked to think.

"Hope, would ya get a move on?" Maqui huffed, already strutting the other chocobo around outside its stall.

Hope nodded absently as he stroked the chocobo's neck and released its bridle, hopping up easily and following Maqui's lead to the edge of the pen, both of them breaking into a trot through the gate. It looked to be a promising evening for a run on the plains - not a cloud in the sky, light wind from the northwest, and the sun was just beginning its descent at their backs.

As they put more distance behind them, leaving the Settlement in the dust, Hope's mind traveled further and further ahead. It was easy to imagine himself breezing by the Cavalry field base to press on toward Aerma Proper, even when he knew that wasn't an option. The terrain to the southwest of the field base was nothing like the mostly open expanse between its plateau and the Settlement - on the contrary, it was a treacherous combination of deep canyons and twisting stretches of dense forest. He'd flown over the entirety of it enough times to know first-hand.

Not that reality did anything remotely like stopping the journey of Hope's thoughts, which rapidly reached home. He could picture Lightning coming in from a typical day at work, hanging her gunblade on the chair, and battling with him for dibs on the shower when each of them thought they were unforgivably gross. In that moment, Hope didn't want to be anywhere else but right there. He wanted to tell her about his day and ask about hers while both of them had to repeat everything two or three times because they couldn't hear each other over the roaring, sometimes squeaky HAZMAT shower, not because there was static on the miles of airwaves between them.

_Well, at least there's _less _static out here..._

Complaints aside, Hope desperately wanted to talk to her, and he spent the entirety of their ride to the field base stewing on everything he needed to say. He'd had that nagging sense again, progressively stronger in recent days, that something was hanging over them and waiting to drop, and he wanted to vent to Lightning and find out if she felt even remotely the same. Whatever it washad been sending his intuition into a frenzy - the more he'd considered it, the more he assumed it was likely another blackout on the horizon. For all he knew, the surge of activity around the stanchions could have unsettled Cocoon's already fragile state.

And if that was the case, they needed to be prepared.

* * *

"Wow, look what the cat dragged in," Serah said in disbelief, blinking her wide, scrutinizing eyes at her sister the instant Lightning stepped in the door. "Are you okay? It's kind of late..."

Lightning couldn't muster the strength to judge her - she knew she was a total train wreck. She was soaked through, mud had caked both boots to the point that they were barely recognizable, and it was spattered everywhere else on her uniform and body, with several small clumps still clinging to her hair. It should've been just a routine day, but the combination of horrid weather and hours hunting down a lost soldier in the woods shot everything to hell.

"Unit had a training incident," Lightning mumbled, shaking her head and abandoning further explanation. Instead, she just muddled through the motions of stripping off all her messy gear on the landing, not wanting to take a step into her sister's living room with a single soiled thing on her. Once she was finally down to the tank top and undershorts, she dragged herself toward the bathroom.

In her peripheral vision, Lightning could see Serah wringing her hands and awkwardly chewing her lip, obviously worried. "Right... I guess I'll just put on some coffee, then," she said with a shaky laugh, shuffling quickly toward the stairs and out of sight.

This definitely hadn't been the first rough day her sister had witnessed in the last couple of weeks, but it was certainly the worst for Lightning thus far. Whether something was off in the universe or it was simply that phenomenon of bad things coming in clusters, life had just been unpleasant to deal with, and it was difficult not to ponder what else might go wrong next.

The most effective strategy seemed to be sleeping everything away.

One much-needed shower later, Lightning just settled into the couch in her usual spot wearing a large towel, reveling in the simple comfort of being clean, dry, and cushioned there after the exhausting and downright nasty workday. The soft sounds of Milo's whining from where he'd clearly just been put to bed drifted over from the adjacent room, but she got so relaxed that she merely curled in on herself and took a cleansing breath before she drifted off.

What felt like hours and simultaneously no time later, someone squeezed her shoulder.

"Sis, I've got your coffee. And I think your comm unit's been going off somewhere. Did you leave it in your uniform?"

Lightning cracked her eyes open and twisted her head toward Serah, her nose crinkling as she got a whiff from the mug held hear her face.

_Great, even the coffee's wrong now. I thought they'd burned the pot at work, but maybe the base just got a bad batch from the supplier._

Shrugging that off, she still took the mug and sat up, quickly covering a yawn. "Think I left the comm unit in my vest... somewhere," she mumbled, only half-awake and processing on a shallow level. It wasn't until Serah had scurried off in search of the communicator that Lightning even thought about the time, and how Hope had probably been trying to get in touch with her. She turned toward the fully darkened window, wondering how late it actually was. The cloudiness had deceived her all day.

"Here you go," Serah said, returning to pass off the comm unit and settle in at the opposite end of the couch with her own coffee. "I can go downstairs while you call him back, if you want."

Lightning just shook her head. "I need to wake up a little bit first." She tested a sip from her mug and grimaced, finally just asking, "Serah, did you do something different to the coffee?"

"No. Why?"

"Tastes off," Lightning said simply, glaring into the dark liquid. She sniffed it again and screwed up her mouth in distaste. "You don't think it smells rancid or something?"

"I don't think coffee can_ be_ rancid, Sis." Even so, Serah also sniffed and tasted her drink, shrugging as she confirmed again, "It seems fine to me."

Lightning just set her mug on the table and curled into the cushions again, resting her cheek against the back of the couch. "Tch. So much for the caffeine, I guess." As she glanced at the comm unit in her hand, about to give up and call Hope anyway, a sudden gasp and a squeak caught her attention. She jerked her head up to see Serah frantically wiping a large splotch of coffee off her leg.

"Good goddess..." Serah muttered, forcing a smile and a mechanical laugh when her eyes met Lightning's. "Heh, sorry. Being clumsy today, I guess."

A brief, somewhat telepathic exchange took place between the sisters in that moment, and Serah looked very much like a deer in the headlights, unable to disengage from Lightning's intense stare.

Convinced that her sister was disturbed by something, Lightning raised an eyebrow. "Alright, what got into you just now?"

"Oh, nothing... Probably just frazzled, and I really should've stuck to tea," Serah rattled off, setting the mug on the coffee table with another awkward laugh. "Stupid coffee puts my mind on overdrive sometimes-"

"Serah, spit it out," Lightning ordered, quickly following on with more detailed demands. "Is Milo sick? Did something happen with Snow and you're afraid to talk about it?"

Serah opened her mouth but faltered, casting her eyes down and away as she tucked a section of hair behind her ear. "No, they're fine, but... I was just worried about something else. You won't want to hear it, though, and it might be nothing at all. I-I'm wrong, sometimes."

"Look, whatever it is, you can tell me. I don't care if you think it's nothing." As tired as she was, Lightning felt her concern building to the point that it overshadowed everything else, and she scooted down the couch enough to place a reassuring hand on her sister's knee.

Serah nodded her acceptance, but still asked, "You sure you don't want to call Hope first, before it gets really late? We can still talk after..."

"We're talking right now," Lightning interjected. "You're a nervous wreck."

"Okay," Serah relented, sucking in and releasing a breath before she finally looked up. The expression on her face was a combination that Lightning couldn't have imagined possible if she wasn't seeing it firsthand - something like fear, cautious excitement, and the strangest tinge of sadness around her eyes.

_What on Pulse _is_ this? _She could feel her own heartbeat gaining speed under the anxiety.

And when Serah grabbed onto both of her hands, she could only glance down and back up to her sister's face in total bewilderment.

"Look, Sis, please don't freak out," she pleaded, closing her eyes to complete the thought. "But I think you're pregnant."

The words did not register. They hit an invisible wall in Lightning's brain and bounced back, and she immediately asked, "Wait... what?"

"Sis, I think you're pregnant. I swear I'm not being paranoid," Serah reiterated, her eyes now open and staring at Lightning with an insistence that she be heard.

"Why would you think something like that?" Lightning asked, pulling back and retreating to her corner of the couch as if she'd been threatened. "I have an implanted contraceptive. It's very effective. As in three _years _effective, and I just had it replaced again last year."

Serah blinked rapidly, stammering in defense, "W-well, they can fail..."

"Do they typically work like a charm for a grand total of seven years straight and _then _fail?"

"Maybe the new one malfunctioned," Serah suggested, straightening in her seat as she began to meet Lightning's same level of stubbornness. "How do you know it wasn't inserted wrong?"

"That seems like a stretch," Lightning retorted, her eyes narrowed. "I think you've just got baby fever again."

"And I think _you're _in denial."

They stared each other down for a long minute or so, neither one willing to yield. Finally, Lightning challenged, "If you're really serious about this, I want to know your reasoning."

"Oh, don't make me laugh," Serah said, rolling her eyes. "You've taken more naps in the last few weeks than I've ever seen, you wouldn't eat the spaghetti on Tuesday, inexplicably, and now you've got a problem with coffee. _Coffee_, Sis!" She threw up her arms in exasperation. "I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt!"

Lightning narrowed her eyes further and retorted, "Those are all circumstantial points at best."

"Fine. Let's go the _medical _route then." Arms crossed firmly over her chest, Serah demanded, "I want the date of the last day of your most recent period."

"We aren't seriously having this discussion," Lightning muttered under her breath. She shielded her eyes with a hand and huffed, "Look, these long-term hormone-based implants make everything irregular. I'm _used _to going two or three months with nothing."

"Just give me the date," Serah still insisted.

Slumping into the arm of the couch, Lightning blinked down at the mug on the table as she counted back through the weeks, trying to pin down a single day. Finally, she pinged on the memory of one brief observation from before their trip to the Settlement.

"I think... it must've been a day or two before we flew out for the Landing Festival," she said slowly, anxiously rubbing one temple with her fingers. "I remember being relieved it was over in time to leave."

"Okay, then. Add two weeks to that for ovulation and you've got the likely start date, if I'm right," Serah concluded.

After mulling that one over, Lightning was stunned to confirm that Serah's timetable was actually viable. If her sister was correct about the implant being defective, all other necessary factors were in place - there had not been another period, and almost _exactly_ two weeks had passed between that last date and the last time Hope was with her. As miserable and unexpected as the events had been that landed him in Aerma Proper for those precious few days, his timing could not have been more precise.

_Tch, and he was worried about getting me sick._

Slowly but surely, the collective damning evidence began to settle on Lightning, sticking like a film that she couldn't wash away. She shuddered, rubbing at her arms as she stared down at the communicator beside her on the cushions. Impossible as it seemed, she couldn't deny that Serah was rarely wrong.

_Face it. You knew _something_ was off, didn't you? This would definitely qualify._

Swallowing thickly, she finally managed to say, "I still want a test."

"Well, I run the clinic," Serah said, her voice taking on a placating tone. "If you want to get dressed, I'll call Sazh to watch Milo and we can go right over. It's really not a problem."

Suddenly, the communicator came to life again, startling them both. Lightning just continued to stare blankly at the device as it beeped over and over until it finally stopped, leaving them in crushing silence.

She moved the comm unit to the coffee table and leaned forward, burying her face in her hands.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

"I don't get it," Hope sighed in frustration as he glared suspiciously at the communicator in his hand, daring the device to explain itself. He and Lightning had gotten each other's schedules down to a science, and it was over an hour past when they usually talked each evening. He lifted his eyes to scan the dark expanse between the plateau and the general location of Aerma Proper, still puzzling over whether the black splotch of starless sky above the horizon meant interference from cloud cover. The wind picked up, stirring a flurry of dust in his direction, and he clamped his eyes shut and turned toward the open door nearby.

"Hey, Maqui, was the weather a problem when you were talking to Lucil earlier?"

"Nah, just a little more interference than usual," Maqui called back, stepping outside to join him next to the building. "It's still a better signal than we ever get in the Settlement."

"Hm... then maybe she's away from the communicator right now, for some reason," Hope muttered to himself. "Guess I should just wait for her to call. I'll try Serah if I still don't hear anything by ten."

Pushing off the wall, he pocketed the comm unit and slowly walked back into the building, trying not to let the disappointment and worry get to him. Things happened sometimes, and it didn't need to be blown out of proportion. For all he knew, her comm unit was malfunctioning.

Either way, Hope immediately sought a distraction. Once he and Maqui made it back to the common room in the barracks, it was easy enough to find one - despite the relative restriction of living around daylight hours, Cavalry soldiers not on duty still found ways to occupy themselves using the lanterns until lights out, whether with card games or mundane chores. Having been with the unit for over a month, Noel had easily taken to this pattern and was still up and about, polishing the outlandish sword he typically carried. He glanced up to wave them over once they came in the room.

"Hey, you guys wouldn't happen to know how we're breaking up the expeditionary team, would you?" he asked. "We had a meeting about it earlier today, but Snow just mentioned that we'd be dispersing into zones, or something. I figured it would be by major population centers."

"Well, to be honest," Hope started to explain, slumping into a nearby chair, "we won't know how to dispatch the teams until we complete a scan of the interior. You guys are hitting whatever zones come up with exceptionally high or low energy readings."

Noel paused in his task and scratched his head, briefly focusing away from them as he thought. "Mm, okay. Now it makes sense why we've been studying all those maps of Cocoon, if we'll just be randomly distributed. I wondered why we didn't have any specific regional assignment."

"Yeah, you guys'll need a solid grasp on land navigation," Maqui chimed in. "We can pick out general locales on the aerial map, but it's not very efficient to have to constantly tell the ground teams where the hell they are. The whole landscape's gonna look abnormal under the crystal - we won't even know where Eden crashed until we get in there."

"Wait... Eden _crashed_?" Noel suddenly stared at Maqui like he'd grown a second head, his blue eyes burning. "How do you know that?"

Shrugging, Maqui propped himself against the wall and crossed his arms, not the least bit deterred. "Easy guess. All the fal'Cie in Cocoon shut down, and that would include the fal'Cie Eden. How'd you think the floating city would still be able to float?"

Noel opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, running a hand over his face before he finally muttered in disbelief, "Wow, guess I never gave it a second thought."

"Were you... from Eden?" Hope asked quietly, looking on with a measure of guarded sympathy. It had seemed like the sort of reaction he would've had to similar news about Palumpolum.

"No, I'm not from there, but I was set on going there. Big plans to make it to university, y'know." Noel seemed to come out of a trance and back to himself, polishing the sword methodically once again as he said in a hollow voice, "It's not like I haven't known for a long time that wasn't an option. It's weird. Some part of my mind must've still been wondering if Cocoon would ever just start up again - go back to how it was, or even just... I don't know, decrystallize and be restored one day."

He chuckled darkly to himself. "Guess that dream's really dead and buried now. I'm too old to be that naive."

_Dead and buried..._ The phrase turned over and over in Hope's mind, trying to lodge itself somewhere into his reasoning, but he rejected it outright. Even if he accepted that Cocoon could never decrystallize _and _be restored, he couldn't give up on Fang and Vanille.

"I wouldn't call it naive," Hope said, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward to prop his chin on his hands. "No one knows what to expect anymore."

The muted sounds of soldiers laughing as they moved through the nearby hall and light voices across the common room swirled in the air between the three of them for a minute or two, completely at odds with their heavy topic of conversation. Finally, Maqui started to shift restlessly in his place against the wall and cleared his throat.

"You know they'll build a new university down here, before long," he said casually, rummaging through his pockets in an apparent search for something.

Hope's ears perked up - he did recall a project like that being mentioned. He tapped Noel's shoulder to draw him out of what had become an intense brood, watching for signs of improvement as he confirmed, "It's already being discussed in Central, actually. They just need to stabilize the energy supply for the Settlement first, and I think that'll be the next big addition."

His brow still furrowed, Noel slouched into the back of his seat and stared at the sword across his lap. "I know you guys mean well, but... ugh, how can I explain this?"

"Give it a shot?" Hope suggested with a shrug. "Begin at the beginning? I don't know, there're only so many clichés..."

At that, Noel suddenly straightened, hefting his sword as he turned to face them. "See this thing?" he said as he tilted the weapon to display its twisting, partly flame-like design. "This crazy sword's been in my family since Maker knows when. It was hanging over the mantle in our living room my entire life, and when Cocoon was about to bite the dust - right before I had to run like mad to get to an evacuation ship - it's the only thing I bothered to grab. Nearly sliced my hand open in the process! If I hadn't bundled it up in an old blanket they probably would've confiscated it on the transport. To this day I ask myself, why the hell would I go to all that trouble?"

"You thought it was particularly valuable?" Hope tried, rubbing at his neck when he quietly admitted, "I took my mom's necklace. More of a sentimental thing, there."

"Reasons like that would make sense," Noel agreed, but his tone suggested that he had already considered and discarded that explanation in the past. "The thing is, I never really cared about that old sword, or what it meant to my family - I just felt compelled to take it with me. After we got settled in down here, I had some time to do a little research, and it turns out that this weapon is _from _Pulse." Pausing, he ran his fingers over the sword, an ironic smirk pulling up his mouth when he got a grip on a hidden handle near the business end and suddenly jerked the entire center section free - which turned out to be a separate short sword.

Hope went wide-eyed and Maqui dropped the screwdriver he'd been using to tinker with some invention from his pocket, neither of them expecting the secret feature. Laughing at their reactions, Noel promptly handed over the dual weapon for them to inspect.

After they'd gotten a good look at the latch mechanism and put the sword together again, Hope came back to himself and the former topic, tilting his head as he questioned, "So are you saying you think this sword - and you - were _fated _to come down here, through some kind of convoluted destiny? Because you definitely didn't seem okay with losing Eden."

"Heh, I guess it did sound all depressing when I said my dream of going to university in Eden was dead, but... I'm actually relieved, if that makes any sense," Noel tried to explain. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling as he reflected, "It's one less 'what if' for me to keep wondering about. I _know_ I belong here now, no doubt in my mind."

Hope nodded, feeling a brief surge of jealousy over such a prospect.

_It's going to take the rest of my life to dig my way out of all the 'what if's' at this rate. I have more of those than I do a real future._

Of course, when he really thought about it, everything hinged on a chain reaction of events that could result from just two 'what if' scenarios: What if Cocoon collapsed, or what if Fang and Vanille awakened? Those were the questions driving his current existence. He had to answer them.

A hand waved in front of his face. "Hey, Director - you alive in there?"

Hope shook himself and forced a smile, quickly returning the sword as he said, "It's just Hope, out here. Sorry for spacing out - I was thinking how great it would've been to find some magic sword of destiny that landed me right where I was meant to go. That's pretty insane luck."

"Yeah, maybe..." Noel replied, frowning uncharacteristically as his eyes narrowed. "But you're no stranger to luck - you did find your soul mate. No matter how everything else comes together, that's what matters most to you, isn't it? As long as things revolve around the 'center of your universe'?"

Hope blinked back in surprise at hearing his own words from _weeks_ ago thrown back at him. That absolutely made sense - there was no denying it, and for several seconds he agonised over how he could let his mind get so distracted all the time, nearly flying out of orbit if he focused too long on whatever awaited them in the unknowable future.

As if the present wasn't complicated enough.

"You're right," he admitted quietly, turning to stare off at nothing in particular. His hand automatically went for the comm unit in his pocket, and he stood to his feet. "I've got to make a call."

* * *

**Endnote: Despite being a bit zonked on meds, beta-roomie was able to tack on a handful of fun editing comments, here for your enjoyment :D**

When Snow asks Hope how he can know if he's wrong or not: **omg philosophical!Snow is hilarious**

At Sal's use of the phrase "not-quite-decisions": **LOL**

After Lightning remarks that the coffee seems rancid: **all coffee is rancid, Hthar. ALL OF IT. [beta-roomie really doesn't like coffee, hehe]**

When Serah confronts Lightning about what she thinks is wrong: **omg I love this – it's like an intervention, hahaha [reference to How I Met Your Mother, FYI]**

As Hope rhetorically questions Noel's suggestion that he and the sword had some kind of destiny, despite seeming disappointed about Eden: **also, that sounds ridiculous. BUT MOSTLY BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE IT. ;-P**

And again, when Hope says that it's insane luck: **or coincidence. But sure, whatever :-S**


	14. Warning Signs

**A/N: I'm sure a number of you are pretty bummed out by how inconsistent my updates have been since the holidays, and I truly am sorry. The power of the nesting instinct is kind of ridiculous. In any case, I have been agonizing over every little detail of this chapter for the past two days since getting back beta-roomie's final edits, so I do hope the effort is appreciated. We're kicking things into high gear for real, now, and I am going to give it everything I've got to put out one more chapter before "labor day" inevitably strikes 0.0 I think it goes without saying that if I am in fact giving birth before I get to that next post, another delay is inevitable. I'll try to put out an announcement if that happens, hehe. But really, thank you all for the continued support, and please do leave reviews to better inform the coming developments!**

**Also, be sure to check out beta-roomie's goofy batch of comments :D**

[Songs for Chapter 14: "Life" - Our Lady Peace; "Dark Come Soon" - Tegan and Sara; "Chaos and Piss" - P!nk; "The Adventure" - Angels and Airwaves]

Warning Signs

After all her years with the military, Lightning was certainly no stranger to urine samples and blood tests. It came with the package - a periodic ritual that was all part of ensuring soldiers remained fit for duty and free from disease or debilitating substances.

In her mind, she tried to rationalise her current situation as nothing other than a routine check for drugs or hepatitis, not for the signs of a growing, parasitic _being. _

Lightning was already clamping her fingers around the front edge of the cushioned examination table on which she sat, her knuckles white from the tension as she waited impatiently in one of the tiny, sterile rooms. She knew if she speculated over her situation too long she would end up fleeing the cramped space and barging in on Serah, interrupting her work in the back lab for no good reason.

The beep of a comm unit startled her, briefly breaking her train of thought. She whipped toward the instrument tray where Serah's communicator rested, narrowing her eyes as she bit down on the inside of her cheek. Lightning had a good idea who was on the other end of the line, but the twinge of guilt that thought brought on was promptly buried beneath her mounting frustration over everything else at the moment.

_He's calling my sister on me now, isn't he? Persistent little-_

"'Kay, I'm back. Sorry it took so long," Serah huffed, leaning against the door to close it behind her. She immediately reacted to a second round of beeping from her communicator, rushing over to snatch it up as she smiled apologetically. For a doctor technically on call, Lightning understood Serah's need to never ignore her comm unit unless in an area where they were restricted, but she still grit her teeth at the interruption.

"This is Serah," she said casually, her eyes briefly widening when whoever-it-was apparently answered. She began to anxiously pace back and forth. "No, Hope, I had to run over to the clinic. No- no, _listen_, Sis is just fine. She came home really late, and she said something about a soldier getting lost in the woods today, then she crashed on the couch."

A few seconds passed while he must've replied, and Serah furrowed her brow as she retorted, "Oh what, do you think I should've woken her up and ordered her to call you? Uh-huh, that's right - she can call you in the morning. Really, Hope, you're going to give yourself an ulcer. Why don't you go and give Snow a hug for me instead?" After that, they had a good laugh, forced as it sounded on Serah's end, and said a quick goodbye.

"That boy..." she muttered under her breath, shaking her head and looking back up to face Lightning's demanding eyes, which had followed her every move since entering the room.

"What's the verdict?" Lightning asked tersely. "And please don't try to ease into it. Just tell me."

Sighing, Serah reached into her white coat pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "See for yourself." She handed it over and stood back, conceivably out of range from whatever reaction might come.

Lightning quickly skimmed the small print, skipping over unrecognised names of chemicals and meaningless numbers until she got to the very bottom. She mouthed the final word.

"Positive?" Lightning repeated incredulously, her unblinking gaze burning into the page. Her first fleeting impression was that a different word would be more suitable to describe that kind of news, which not only struck her as less than _positive _but temporarily annihilated every other thought, laying waste to the plane of her mind. One bra strap had slipped off her shoulder, and Lightning focused all of her attention on that single insignificant detail for several seconds. She raised a hand to carefully pull it back into place under her tank top, swallowing thickly.

Then the panic began to set in.

"No. I can't do this. I can't..."

She knew all the reasons were there, but the frantic pace her mind had taken just wouldn't allow the words to form in order to explain it to Serah.

_I'm here. Hope is there. He's got a million different things pulling him away and all I have is my work in the Corps. That's the only thing giving me purpose and stability, and now this-this... It's going to take that last shred of sanity away! If they don't retire me, I'll be stuck doing admin work until I want to just-_

Suddenly, Serah was in front of her, gripping her upper arms. "Sis, look at me," she demanded, and Lightning snapped her eyes up to search her sister's gaze for support. Thankfully, she saw more of the calm, doctor-to-patient reassurance on Serah's face than anything else.

"I need you to take a deep breath," she urged. Lightning obeyed, her clenched fingers finally releasing the paper she had unknowingly crushed within them. Serah simply plucked the results print-out away and smoothed it, clipping it onto a nearby chart before she scribbled a few notes.

"Let's just focus on the facts for now, alright?"

Nodding absently, Lightning stared down at her hands and tried to empty her mind.

_She's right. Panicking isn't going to do any good. I need to deal with this, but I just don't know..._

"So, you're right about at eight weeks from what I can tell," Serah continued neutrally, "And everything seems normal, but we obviously need to remove that defective implant ASAP - preferably tonight or first thing tomorrow. Give it a couple of weeks and we can monitor the heartbeat. After that, there's the option of checking the gender on ultrasound at sixteen weeks or so. You can also expect monthly exams from here on out to make sure things are progressing smoothly."

Lightning would've rolled her eyes at her sister's overtly professional approach if she hadn't felt so lost and miserable. A new thought had occurred to her, and she pressed her fingertips against her closed eyes as she muttered, "You say all of that like I don't have a choice."

Serah froze, her jaw dropping open, and briefly fumbled with the clipboard. Several seconds passed before she could form a response.

"But... but it's half _Hope_. You don't seriously want to-"

"I don't _know_ what I want," Lightning snapped. She felt the desperate urging of the flight response trying to take over, and she used every ounce of her focus to keep it under control. Aside from the uncharacteristically wild look in her eyes, no outside observer would've noticed that she was barely holding it together.

"I only know what I don't want. And right now, I don't want to be stuck in this position. I can't see any good reason why I should just accept it, much less act _happy_ about it."

In that moment, Serah recovered from her surprise only to fix Lightning with the most wounded expression possible. Her eyebrows scrunched together but couldn't seem to display whether she was more hurt or insulted, and she looked like she might cry.

"Listen, I know this whole thing comes as a big shock to you," Serah said, forcibly keeping her voice from cracking, "But you could at least try to see this from my perspective for half a minute. You know it took _years_ of trying - not to mention miscarriages - for me to get past eight weeks of a pregnancy. And now this-this lands in your lap in _spite_ of everything, and your first impulse is to reject it outright?"

By that point, her hands were trembling minutely where they gripped the chart, and she clamped her mouth shut, ducking her head to release a long breath through her nose.

"Sorry I came across like that," Lightning replied lifelessly. Even though she understood Serah's reaction and sentiments, it didn't exactly win her over to the idea of pregnancy, birth, or child-rearing. "Look, I never said I was definitely going to just _end_ this, but I need to think about my options. That's all I'm saying."

A few tense seconds later, Serah tucked her bangs back and cleared her throat, boring her eyes into Lightning's with renewed determination.

"Okay. I-I _get _that you're not like me, and you don't deal with situations like I do," she began. "There's just one thing that doesn't change about this - you've still got to tell Hope. Whatever you guys decide after that is your business, but he at least deserves to know."

_Right. And once he knows, I doubt there's much chance he won't want to go through with it. What would he stand to lose? _Nothing_, just like any other man in this situation._

The very thought of airing the news to Hope made Lightning want to crawl under the examination table. Instead, she just fell back against it and squinted up at the glaring overhead light.

"Well, he'll have to wait. If I'm telling him, it's going to be in person."

"Noble as that intention is," Serah remarked, flipping a page on her chart, "You know you can't just cut off all communication with your own husband in the meantime. Hope might catch on anyway."

"I'll manage," Lightning muttered, by that point so physically and emotionally spent that she couldn't give credence to that minor concern. "I'm not a half-bad liar myself."

Serah snorted and replied, "Well, that's a relief. I'd hate to see the look on Hope's face if he ever heard your honest reaction to the news. Pretty sure 'No, I can't do this' isn't at the top of his list of things you want your wife to say about carrying your child."

"Thanks, Serah," Lightning grumbled, shielding her face from the brightness above. "Sometimes I wonder if you're more _my _sister or his."

Serah sighed in resignation as she circled around to the head of the examination table, reaching out to carefully move Lightning's hands aside and brush a few stray hair strands out of her face. She gently turned Lightning's head to face her and murmured, "Don't say that. You've always been and will always be my sister, and you know I love you. But that doesn't mean I don't also love Hope to death, any more than I don't love Snow or Milo. Please... don't make me take a side."

_Like your side wasn't already chosen by default, baby lover, _Lightning thought, but she never would've made such an accusation aloud. She had no right to demand absolute loyalty - it wasn't as if she'd always stuck by Serah every time her sister needed her. Both Snow and Hope had taken turns making up for her own shortcomings over the last several years.

"Don't worry. I won't," Lightning said at last. Pushing herself upright, she swung her legs over the side of the table and headed for the door. At the very least, she needed to get out of the clinic to even begin to process the situation with a level head.

After all, there was no telling how much or how little time she would have before inevitably facing Hope. If she wasn't prepared to stand her ground - whatever ground that ended up being - Lightning knew he could wriggle right through her defenses with a heart-melting look and genuinely persuasive words or actions. And many times, under normal circumstances, she was even happy to let him win like that.

This was not one of those times.

* * *

"Wow, Snow - I think your new pet could trample you now!" Hope called through the barricade, not quite ready to risk approaching the young adamantoise himself. He hadn't seen the creature since one of his earlier visits, and it appeared to have gone through a growth spurt - not that it was anywhere near big enough to outgrow the spacious accommodations the Cavalry had provided. That particular inset area on the plateau's north face could have easily housed a few herds of smaller monsters. The handful of soldiers on duty, patrolling outside and above the 'pen' astride both lobos and wyverns, were actually there to defend their newest addition from other monsters charging in. The crescent of spiked posts forming the barricade itself was prevention enough from escape.

From where he stood perhaps twenty meters inside the pen, Snow just laughed and boldly patted one of the adamantoise's trunk-like legs. "Aw, Helga's a giant softy. You're gonna hurt her feelings if ya keep hiding over there."

On cue, the monster dipped her head and slowly turned to look straight in Hope's direction with her beady eyes, taking long whiffs of the air. Helga issued a low grunt, supposedly of disapproval.

"See? It's bad manners to visit the lady and not introduce yourself," Snow reiterated.

Hope wagged his head in defeat, tentatively stepping between the barricade posts and moving in their direction. He stopped just inside to call out again, "It's not like I have a Siren equipped. Don't even pretend you'd be so brave without the technology backing you up."

"Haven't needed that thing for weeks!" Snow proudly declared. He patted Helga's leg again and made a lowering gesture with his arm until she sat back - causing a slight tremor in the ground underfoot - and slowly lay on her belly. Snow immediately responded by offering a bundle of leafy vegetation for her to gobble up.

Seeing the creature that subdued, Hope finally crossed the space between them. Once he reached Snow's side, Helga whipped her head over and sniffed at him again, and he jumped back.

Snow clamped a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. "Oh, c'mon, she's just a curious kid. Can't help it that she smells a newcomer."

"O-okay, as long as all she does to newcomers is sniff them," Hope stammered, determinedly rooting himself where he stood to get a good look at the future of land transportation. Helga was probably half the size of a full-grown adamantoise, and Hope could already guess that it would be a hassle to haul anything up to that height with a living, mobile being involved.

_It's not that I don't get the appeal, but I think I'll stick to my mechanical transport. Sometimes even_ that _thing has a will of its own._

"Snow, exactly how do you plan to load anything on or off the back of one of these?" he asked, gesturing at Helga's impressive size even lying down.

"Heh, that's easy," Snow scoffed. He moved to sit against one of Helga's front legs and patted the ground for Hope to join him. "But come take a load off first."

Hope huffed impatiently, crossing his arms. "You're just never satisfied, are you? You do realise if she suddenly got the urge to roll over, you'd probably survive while I'd get smushed to a pulp."

"Helga won't do anything like that," Snow insisted. He rubbed circles on a spot between the adamantoise's neck and shoulder, earning a low rumbling sound that resembled a magnified purr. "And I'm sorry if you've got a chip on your shoulder about survival of the fittest," he teased. "I look at it as insurance for Milo to keep his daddy."

"Fair enough," Hope sighed, shaking his head in disbelief at his own actions as he approached the massive, leathery bulk that was Helga and sat stiffly on the ground next to Snow. He pointedly ignored the adamantoise to stare off toward the opposite face of the inset area.

"Happy? Now please explain this onload and offload plan to me."

Snow chuckled briefly, and in the next instant Hope was snatched into a choke-hold and at the mercy of a noogie. He flailed and sputtered, "Snow! What the hell-?!"

But he was released just as quickly. Hope scooted a safe distance back and hastily raked at his wild hair, glaring at the guffawing man.

"You shoulda seen your face!" Snow began, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pretended to wipe away a tear. "I just wanted you to relax for half a second, little bro. You've been on edge since you got here yesterday."

Hope drew his knees up and rested his forehead against them, sighing heavily. "It's my damned intuition. Still setting off alarms, still unclear about the direction... I wanted to think about something else for five minutes. Something _productive_. Would it kill you to humor me?"

"Nah, I think I'll survive," Snow replied with a sympathetic punch to his shoulder. "It really is simple, though. We're gonna wait for Helga to finish growing, get a good measurement on her height when lying down, and set up designated loading platforms at the different supply stops - starting with the Settlement, Charlie Station and Aerma Proper. Most of the time we won't even have to build anything new, since there are probably a lot of preexisting structures around the right height. And that's all there is to it."

"Hmph. That does sound pretty straightforward." Hope shrugged, letting his head sink down to his knees again in disappointment that yet another distraction was slipping away. In the absence of other stimulating thoughts, he could no longer hold back the flood of concern he'd kept dammed up since early morning, when he woke from a fitful sleep to Lightning's call on the communicator.

_I _still _don't get it. Everything she said made sense - it was a perfectly reasonable explanation for yesterday, and nothing out of the ordinary. Serah even vouched for her when I called last night._

_But then... what is this premonition?_

"So, Hope," Snow said nonchalantly, his voice barely penetrating the dense fog of worry swirling around the younger man, "Are you gonna tell me what's eating you?"

Hope slowly turned his head to stare right through the serious expression on Snow's face. His clouded green eyes were still searching into the future for something, and his response was equally detached.

"If I knew, I would-"

Suddenly, the sound of scraping chocobo feet hit Hope's ears, getting rapidly louder with someone's approach, and an urgent shout of Snow's name pulled all attention to the barricade. Snow was instantly up and moving toward the rider who had arrived, and Hope automatically followed on his heels.

"A'right Paine, what's going on?" Snow immediately asked, jogging to a stop beside her fidgety mount.

The stern corporal flashed her eyes between the two men for a second, nodding once in acknowledgment. "We just got the distress signal from Central's alarm system, Sir. Power's out."

As much as the news could have shocked him, Hope was more relieved than anything else.

_This has to be it._

* * *

"What, no cutting words of wisdom this time? Don't tell me I've actually confounded you." Lightning fixed the top of her friend's red head with a calculating stare, refusing to budge from her stance against the door. After the bombshell of news she'd just dropped, especially with how dry and blunt her delivery had been, she was surprised to get no immediate reaction.

Lucil did no more than flit her eyes up to Lightning for half a second and back down to her lap as she methodically cleaned her gunblade in the empty training room. "The only thing that confounds me is why I'm getting this news before Hope," she remarked plainly, some of her typical sharpness coming through. It was still too early for the first training group to arrive, and the two of them often killed a bit of time before the workday began with idle conversation or companionable silence over coffee, but today was definitely an exception.

Today there was neither coffee nor idleness in the discussion.

"You were going to find out today, anyway," Lightning replied. Absently, she brushed her fingers over the small bandage on her inner left arm - the implant's removal served as a superficial but tangible reminder of how very real her predicament was. "I thought I'd spare you the surprise of hearing it through the chain of command. It's not like I can avoid reporting it to them."

Lucil finally glanced up, the hint of disapproval in her gaze making Lightning want to shrink into herself - not that she let it show with more than a slight raise of her eyebrow.

"They're not the only ones you can't avoid _reporting _it to."

Sighing under the obvious judgment, Lightning retorted, "I'll tell _him_ in person. Before that, I need a little time to make a solid decision."

"A solid decision on what?" It seemed that as soon as the question had left her mouth, Lucil realised what had been meant, and at that point she set the gunblade aside and crossed the room to stand before Lightning, planting one hand on the doorframe next to her head.

Her eyes searched Lightning's face for understanding as she charged, "Aren't you jumping the gun there? Seems like it'd be kind of impossible to really make up your mind_ without _talking to Hope first."

"I should at least know my own position going into that conversation," Lightning deadpanned, glancing away from yet another concerned face as she pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a moment. She gave a short, bitter laugh, unable to block a single troubled thought.

"This should not be happening. I swear, the timing couldn't be worse. Do you honestly think it's going to be any more convenient for Hope, with everything he's got going on? And why are you so worried about his thoughts, anyway? He's not the one carrying this..." she said, pausing to gesture dismissively at her abdomen. "He's just a responsible party."

Lucil backed off, crossed her arms and released a long, exasperated breath. "The term you're looking for is _father_, so don't make it sound like he's an accessory to a crime. I'm not saying you aren't entitled to feel pretty blind-sided here - I mean, I'd be in a panic myself - but I wanna make sure you aren't seeing Hope as the enemy. It's _his _impending spawn, too, and he'll be the only other person who can come close to understanding how you feel."

Taking a tentative step closer, she placed a hand on Lightning's shoulder as she quietly affirmed, "Look, this whole distant act of yours isn't fooling me. I'm sure you care what he wants, deep down."

"Tch, pretty impractical of me," Lightning muttered, shrugging off the contact. "Just for the record, how do you think he'll take the news?"

"Well, first off, I don't think Hope will give a damn about the inconvenience." With a smooth turn, Lucil strode back to her gunblade and sheathed it, wiping her hands on a fresh cleaning rag as she continued matter-of-factly, "Once he knows there's a baby involved, I bet his protective instinct will kick into high gear. But then again, if he thinks you're suffering and blames himself for it, I can't see him trying to force your hand about a decision. It's just... hard to say how he'll react."

Her hands stilled at the task, and she faced Lightning with a half-hearted smirk. "Either way, Hope's a smart cookie. He knows I'd kick his ass if he hurt you."

While the sentiment was appreciated, Lightning merely nodded her acceptance and wrapped her arms protectively around herself, staring down at her boots. Her sense of self-preservation continued to question the reasons she was being indecisive when the most rational choice was clear. Aggravating as it was, and despite the fact that their arguments were based on the shaky foundation of emotional ties, she couldn't shut out what Serah and Lucil had been saying.

Because she couldn't shut out Hope. Not even when it would've been best for her career and her sanity. It had been hard enough to face her sister and best friend, and Nooj was going to be far from pleased about the prospect of losing a seasoned leader in the field once Lightning reported the situation. But worse than all of that, sometime very soon, she would have to face the music and tell Hope, and only then could she make a final decision. She cringed at the thought of his possible reactions.

_The people who know him best seem to think he'll be happy or protective, and if they're right - and I can't think why I should doubt that - he'll want to keep this baby. _

_What if we're all wrong, though? Hope isn't as blindly idealistic as he used to be. I've rubbed off on him a lot... He can be just as practical in a pinch. So what if he isn't happy and doesn't want to keep it?_

_Do I really want to hear him say that?_

That question formed a little knot in Lightning's stomach unlike the other knots already tying up her insides. It was a foreign fear to her, the fear of potential rejection from someone who had never done so before. Just the handful of times they'd had serious disagreements were torturous to her, but the idea that Hope might find something about her undesirable - whether or not she liked that particular thing herself - was a new level of painful. It sickened her to think about that, on top of everything else.

After the morning's rocky start, Lightning quickly discovered that only a constant state of motion seemed to help when it came to surviving her workday. She paced in her office, attacked a mountain of paperwork, and stalked the halls distributing and collecting additional paperwork to be tackled. In that way, she spent the dragging hours trying to ignore the sensation of being firmly wedged between a rock and a hard place.

By the time she hit a lull in tasking and began to sense a second wave of anxiety approaching, it was nearly time for her to report to Nooj during his tiny window of availability. Lightning stood from her chair, briefly stretching her stiff limbs, and made for the door with her personal folder in hand - inside was a freshly typed memorandum and a copy of her paperwork from Medical. About two steps before she reached the handle, though, someone knocked.

"Enter," Lightning commanded flatly. Whatever this visitor wanted would have to be kept short and to the point.

A corporal she vaguely recognised as belonging to Baralai's department of the command opened the door and promptly introduced himself.

"First Sergeant, I was forwarded here by Lieutenant Colonel Nooj with the same message I delivered to him from Communications: Cocoon has experienced another blackout, and you are to pack for departure at zero four tomorrow morning to the Settlement." Pausing, he cleared his throat and added a bit less certainly, "Captain Baralai also wanted you to know that the expedition team has begun preparations. You are to meet them in the GC warehouse district, but he didn't say anything further."

"Understood," Lightning instantly replied, her words so close on the end of his sentence that she nearly cut him off. "Please let the captain know I've confirmed. I'm needed in the colonel's office now."

Quickly nodding his acknowledgement, the soldier disappeared from sight as suddenly as he had come, obviously keen on the fact that Lightning expected no delay. Had the message come on any other normal day - one devoid of far more life-altering news to digest - she would have at least felt a moment's surprise and possibly the thrill of anticipation for that long-awaited change of pace.

As it was, Lightning just felt an intensified surge of anxiety. While it was a small relief that the expedition would be happening several weeks before she was far enough along to be completely non-deployable, its immediacy had a serious downside. The amount of time she now had to formulate what she needed to say to Hope had suddenly been whittled down to days and hours.

She took a deep breath and slowly released it through her nose, tightening her grip around the folder in her left hand.

_One thing at a time._

* * *

Hope hauled himself up from the topmost rung of the transport, plopping down onto the hull with a tired smile. He locked his gaze onto the soft glow of Cocoon against the twilight and sent his mind into the next day, when they would finally take a step closer to helping Fang and Vanille after the summer's string of debilitating setbacks. And to top it off, Lightning would be working right beside him.

He couldn't remember the last time his spirits had been so high.

Following the impressively speedy mobilization of the Second Cavalry expedition team, all parties in and around the Settlement had taken a collective breath of relief when Cocoon finally flickered back to life a few hours after the blackout. At that point, all efforts turned toward last-minute preparation for the expedition. Maqui had just completed his final checks on the transport's radiance panels and measurement system, thankfully without hang-ups, and Alyssa had hauled her own mobile equipment on board for her separate monitoring agenda.

Now, as the buzz of activity finally died down with the day itself, nothing remained for the gathered expedition team but to rest up. Yawning as he casually glanced at his watch, Hope jumped at the lateness of the time and quickly dug his comm unit out of his pocket to call Lightning.

_Damn it, why do I always lose track? At least she's probably been busy packing..._

It seemed to ring for an eternity before Lightning picked up, and when she did, she didn't exactly sound thrilled by the interruption.

"Yes," she said curtly, not even allowing the tone of a question to slip out. Hope could hear the rustling of objects being shuffled around as she continued to handle some task while on the communicator.

"Hey, Light," he started in, already feeling sheepish. "Sorry it's a little later than usual again-"

"Forget it," Lightning interjected. "I was getting ready, anyway. I just hope you aren't calling to tell me there are complications in the mission already - it'd be nice to have _something_ go according to plan this week."

Sighing to himself at her ever-unshakable focus, Hope quickly clarified, "No, nothing's changed at all. Serah did tell me about the missing soldier incident, but I had no idea the rest of your week had sucked so much. Why didn't you say something?"

"Well, it wasn't..." she began, trailing off hesitantly. She cleared her throat. "I guess that was an overstatement. The whole week wasn't terrible, it's just a combination of annoying little events from work. Nothing worth mentioning."

Her insistence struck him as a tad off, but he couldn't pinpoint any particular reason why, so he let it go. "If you say so, Light. It's not like I won't see you in the morning anyway, and we'll have at least a couple of days to talk face to face, whenever we want. I really miss that."

A long breath and static burst later, she quietly replied, "Yeah, I know. Anyway, I should get off. Need to get some sleep in before we fly out."

"Alright. Sweet dreams, then," Hope said, smiling despite knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep much himself, not with so much anticipation for the coming day.

"You too." Lightning's brief response was instantly followed by a click and static.

The abruptness prodded at him. Not that she was ever one for drawn-out conversation, but this seemed different somehow. There was no additional comment - not even a quick 'I love you.' Still, Hope wrote it off as another symptom of her relentless focus on the mission - he knew that puzzling over it would get him nowhere.

_I'll see her tomorrow. Everything will be better tomorrow._

* * *

That pre-dawn flight would live in Lightning's memory as the most miserable travel experience she had ever endured. It had nothing to do with Sazh's piloting, which was flawless as ever, and the weather could not have been more perfect. No, the turmoil afflicting her was entirely housed within her mind and body, barely manageable for the majority of the trip. Once the Settlement came into view, with Cocoon looming large on the horizon, she felt the twisted mass of her insides suddenly clench up tighter than a rubber-band ball from anxiety.

But even that would've been bearable, had the tightening not inadvertently pushed a mild, persistent case of airsickness over the edge. Lightning lost every bit of her chow from the previous night in two rounds of vomiting, and she snatched yet another bag from under the seat, suspecting a third round was at hand. She was the lone passenger, thankfully, along for the ride as Sazh made yet another supply run, so the only witnesses to her sad state were several large crates and a sleeping chocobo. Leaning forward to brace her elbows on her thighs, Lightning glared at the plain brown sack between her fingers, cursing her rebellious stomach. She had never been one to get nauseated aboard moving vehicles. Not ever.

_At this rate, I should really give up on expecting anything to be normal for a while._

Serah had foreseen the likelihood of that very problem and insisted on sending medicine for it, but Lightning had stubbornly refused to take any, and now it was far too late to make a difference. Her one small comfort in the moment was that she wouldn't make the same mistake twice... Well, that and the fact that she had declined eating the spicy fish for dinner. Bravely, she dug the bottle out of her pouch and choked down a pill with some water, intent on surviving the additional air time she knew was coming for the rest of the day.

Miraculously, the third round of vomiting never came. Half an hour later, when Sazh finally landed the transport just outside of the warehouse district, Lightning could have leapt from the ship and kissed the ground. She opted to revel in the feeling of sitting still instead, taking long, deep breaths before she slowly began to undo her harness. She was thankful for the presence of mind to swish around and sip on some water, and the first thing she did upon standing was toss her used bags in the waste disposal. As close as they were to the expedition team and Hope's transport, she would have next to no time before he rushed over.

_And I'm definitely not ready for explanations right now._

Sure enough, Sazh had just wrapped up his post-landing protocols and lowered the cargo bay ramp when Lightning spotted the flash of Hope's silver hair outside. He charged straight into the open transport, his arrival hailed by a round of exuberant "Kweh!" exclamations from the wakened chocobo. Lightning barely caught the unabashed grin on his face before she was trapped in his arms with no hope of escape, and his grip only seemed to tighten when she stood unresponsive.

"Maker... I never want to be away from you again," he whispered into her hair, moving to kiss her temple and cheek before burying his face between her neck and shoulder. Every fiber of his being seemed to tremble with joy, and her stomach sank further.

_I thought it was hard trying to make a decision before. Stupid Light, you should've known..._

Coming around enough to return the embrace, Lightning swallowed a sudden resurgence of nausea - partly from his hold, but more from her own dread.

"Neither do I." Her words hit the air and she realised just how much she meant them, in spite of everything. Having Hope so close made the thought of ever doing something to hurt him or drive him away seem like the unpardonable sin.

Another few moments later, he relaxed his arms and reluctantly held her away, a crooked smile still on his face as he moved forward with the day's agenda. "I hope you're ready for an adventure," he said playfully, sliding his hands down to grip her fingers. "We're not taking off for an hour, though, if you want coffee or breakfast or anything."

_Thank the goddess - my meds can kick in,_ Lightning thought with relief, but to him she just smiled and replied, "Maybe a little. I'm sure you're too excited to eat at this point, yourself."

"Yeah, you got me." He laughed and rubbed a hand over his hair, his eyes suddenly shifting past her as he waved at Sazh, who had finally emerged from the cockpit.

"Hey Sazh, wanna come to breakfast with us?" Hope called out.

The pilot strolled right over and clapped him on the back in passing, heading straight down the ramp as he remarked, "I'm way ahead o' you on that. You two might wanna clear out yourselves before they start movin' supplies in a few minutes."

Lightning nodded and scooped up her rucksack, not hesitating to trail after Sazh out of the ship, and Hope hustled alongside her. From the corner of her eye, she could see he was still radiating happiness like a small sun. It had been a long time since she'd seen him in such a mood - probably not since that perfect month between their wedding and the summit that had led to his departure. This glowing aura suited Hope so much better than all the sadness and uncertainty he'd been plagued with ever since coming to the Settlement, and it warmed her just to be near him.

Given that, Lightning couldn't imagine raining down despair with her news any time soon. Not until the last possible moment. For the present peace, she hooked her arm through Hope's and felt just a little bit lighter.

_Today is about progress - a future for Fang and Vanille. _

_It's not about me._

* * *

Over the years, Hope had witnessed numerous sights through the observation glass of BARTHOLOMEW - the skies of Pulse under every conceivable time of day or weather condition, panoramas of rugged terrain or familiar structures, and even oncoming hostiles in the form of flying beasts and ships alike. He'd considered some of those sights to be breathtaking, awe-inspiring, or just plain terrifying.

But none of them could compare to his first glimpse inside Cocoon, the instant they passed the Hanging Edge. The entire landscape of their home, familiar as it once was, had been transformed under a softly glimmering blanket of crystal into something otherworldly. Hope automatically held his breath, and he heard Maqui do the same from his place in the co-pilot's seat, as if they might disturb the slumbering shell with even the smallest hint of their presence. The closest thing Hope could compare it to was a sense of entering the sacred temple to a goddess.

Pervasive silence consumed the transport for as long as was practical. Once Hope descended, hovering just above the surface to follow their scanning path, though, he finally had to break it.

"Maq, are the panels active?" he asked, almost solemnly.

Maqui flipped a switch and adjusted several controls on his side of the dash, nodding once. From that point, the blond's eyes were glued to the console as the transport snaked across the glistening surface, constantly on the lookout for their target zones. From time to time he would tap certain points on the screen and log their coordinates, quadrant by quadrant.

Each time a large, closed block of high or low energy indicators was established, Hope briefly landed the ship and dropped off a two-man team with instructions for their boundaries. They would be observing the surreal territory on foot, gathering notes and photographs while the transport moved on.

Snow's voice was the only distinct sound in the transport as he designated the departing teams, right up until his turn to leave himself. Naturally, he leapt on the opportunity to tackle a zone identified in Bodhum.

In a weak attempt to lighten the mood, he waved at Lightning on the way out and declared with an unconvincing grin, "Don't worry, Sis - we won't crash your peanut house when we drop by for a visit."

"I'd prefer that you leave my house in peace," Lightning muttered, but otherwise gave no indication that she cared.

Paine, the corporal accompanying Snow, rolled her eyes from where she stood at her superior's back, and Hope quickly hid a smile behind his hand as he watched the whole exchange.

"Just try not to waste too much time," he said simply. "If this zone's location has anything to do with the Purge or the Vestige's removal, we need to know, so the data had better be accurate and thorough, alright?"

"Yeah, I got this," Snow insisted, giving a thumbs up. "I know my old stomping grounds like the back of my hand. No way I'm gonna be anything _but _accurate and thorough." And with that, he and Paine headed down the ramp and onto the crystal-encrusted beach.

Over the course of the morning, the carefully assigned teams debarked until their numbers had dwindled down to the final pair, along with Alyssa, who was waiting to choose a specific site for her experiment once all the teams were disbursed. After Hope landed and climbed out of the cockpit to brief his instructions a final time, he had a fleeting desire to sink into the floor panels. Lightning and Noel remained in the silent cabin, sitting absolutely still on opposite sides, and he knew at least one party would not be thrilled to be dropped into a low-energy zone around what they could only assume was the wreckage of Eden.

Whether Noel had held back for the opportunity or was simply a victim of circumstance, it was sure to be unpleasant for him.

Hope cleared his throat, and both heads snapped forward with a hint of impatience. "So, this last section is going to be a bit... complicated, terrain-wise," he began, scratching nervously at the back of his head. "Simply put, we're on Lake Bresha, but we think the site that gave us our readings is actually Eden, sitting on the surface, and not the lake itself. It's unclear from the aerial view just how, um... _intact _the city infrastructure will be, so take extra precautions out there."

A passing sadness shaded the bright blue of Noel's eyes for a moment, but he quickly recovered and stood from his seat without a word, striding toward the open cargo bay. Lightning seemed to be observing the oddly quiet, strict behavior from the usually energetic soldier with mild surprise at first - surprise that soon morphed into understanding. She nodded at Hope's words and moved decisively to follow Noel out.

Practically alone in the cleared cabin after he closed the cargo bay, Hope sank into the nearest bucket seat and held his head for a moment, sighing heavily. Their expedition, necessary as it was, lacked the adventurous spirit he had imagined - a near-crushing weight pulled at him, just as it pulled at everyone on board since entering the interior. Even Snow had been eerily quiet in between the drop-offs.

They were all holding up under a solemn dread with a force like gravity.

_For Fang and Vanille, _Hope reminded himself again. _We have to get to the bottom of this, no matter what._

"Director, are you ready?" Alyssa's self-assured voice from far back in the cabin broke his concentration, but he couldn't hold onto a wisp of annoyance once he turned her way. Unlike every other face he'd seen throughout the morning, her jaw was set with determination.

"Whenever you are," Hope said resignedly. "Did you decide on a destination? We've covered every quadrant-"

"Palumpolum," she declared, not missing a beat. "There's a sharp gradient section there between two of your zones on the console - a perfect spot to search for the key difference between these high and low readings. I'm sure you've started to notice a pattern by now."

Hope's brow creased as he thought hard on the evidence for several seconds, but eventually he shook his head. "The readings around sites for known, major fal'Cie are all over the charts. There is no clear pattern. In some cases, like with Kujata's location in the Euride Gorge, the energy reading was neutral - absolutely no different from readings in blank sections across Cocoon." When he considered it further, another particular detail of the situation confounded him, and Hope crossed his arms, huffing in frustration.

"And how do you explain why Kujata would be nearest to an alarmingly _low _energy zone?" he questioned. "He was the fal'Cie of energy! It just doesn't make sense."

For a long minute, Alyssa sat perfectly still, staring off at the opposite side of the cabin. Suddenly, she stood and made her way forward, taking the seat next to Hope and fixing him with an enigmatic expression.

"Forget about the fal'Cie," she said simply.

Something in that brief statement, or in the way she delivered it, was frightening to Hope, and he instinctively sat up straight and narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? How can we just throw out an essential element for analysis?"

Alyssa's expression normalized into one of mild irritation, and she quickly explained, "I'm saying that your focus is too broad when it always includes the status of the fal'Cie. If an equation has too many variables, you'll never narrow it down, much less solve anything."

"So... you want to see if there's a pattern without considering the fal'Cie," Hope echoed, and she nodded. "I guess we can't afford to miss any angles, after all." He ran a hand through his hair and got up from the seat, stepping into the cockpit entrance but pausing as another thought occurred to him.

"Do you have a certain variable in mind - for this non-fal'Cie factor, I mean?"

"Population density," Alyssa replied, as if it was the most natural next choice. "Palumpolum is ideal, obviously."

Again, the statement inexplicably raised the hairs on his neck. There was no arguing with her logic, but the more the bold researcher revealed of how she was analyzing the scene, the more Hope felt an indistinct dread regarding her conclusions. As if it wasn't unsettling enough to snoop around in fal'Cie territory turned graveyard, it also didn't help matters that they were setting up her experimental project in his home town - admittedly one of the most populous cities on Cocoon. The commercial hub was surrounded by residential areas and every sort of public service, particularly schools and hospitals. If Alyssa was looking for large groups of people, she had indeed nailed her target.

Lead weights seemed to immobilize Hope's body when he planted himself in the pilot's seat, but his hands automatically took the controls and began the motions of the take-off sequence. Whatever the other teams were experiencing on the ground, Hope got the sense that his own personal role in the expedition was about to get disturbing.

Not that it changed anything. He could see no other path to the truth, and no other means of altering his friends' tragic fate.

_It's always a rough and uncertain stretch before the end, isn't it? _he thought to himself, smiling ironically. _I'll take it as a sign that we're getting close._

* * *

**Endnote: This update delay actually had nothing to do with beta-roomie, hehe, so she took plenty of liberties with her edits :D Enjoy as usual.**

When Serah mentions that Light also needs to get the implant removed: **"Ugh talk about heaping on the stress"**

As Serah starts to freak out a little about even the idea of Light wanting to terminate the pregnancy: **"this reminds me of a great Grey's Anatomy episode where Christina finds out Meredith is pregnant - '…so, are we happy, or are we exercising our right to choose?' :P"**

After Serah tells Light that saying "No, I can't do this," wouldn't be a response Hope would be happy with: **"that's probably been said a LOT, let's be honest."**

And when Light then wonders if Serah is more her sister or Hope's: "**yep, definitely bitter and freaking out."**

At the very end of the scene with the adamantoise, when Hope thinks that the blackout must be the thing his intuition was warning him about: **"Yep. That and a fetus."**

As an aside in the section where Lucil first responds to Light's news about the pregnancy: **"that would totally be me if [Hthar's hubby] had been deployed. Hthar: 'Look! LOOK.' Beta-roomie: 'Dude, what even IS that? Is that covered in pee?'"**

Next to the entire conversation between them, which I rewrote: ** "IMPENDING SPAWN" [Hthar: I promised I would work the phrase in there for her]**

When Light was on the phone and frustrated that anything else could go wrong with her week: **"seriously WOW she is tense :-/"**

And when Hope then puts it down to her 'unshakable focus': **"sure. That's what it is. 0_0"**

And right after that, when Light says it was 'nothing worth mentioning': **"funny enough, this is also the title of their Baby Book."**

When Sazh strolls past the two of them on his way out of the transport, telling them they should clear out [because beta-roomie is picturing him being in the loop with his all-knowing wisdom, despite the fact that he doesn't actually know Light's situation in the fic]: **"WOULDN'T WANT LIGHTNING TO THROW UP ON ANYTHIN', JUST SAYIN' – COS SHE'S PREGNANT THA'S RIGHT I'VE HAD A BABY I KNOW THINGS"**

For some reason that I still can't believe, right next to where Light explains that she hasn't seen Hope in this good of a mood since that **'month'** between their wedding and the summit: **"I read this as 'mouth' at first and thought you were making an awkward sex reference :P" [Hthar: Wow. I think the abundance of fluff a little while back really got to her head…]**

And finally, after the very last line of the chapter, when Hope thinks about how they're getting close: "**good :P" **


	15. House of Cards

**A/N: Alright. This chapter has been a monumental effort, despite how long it's taken me to update -_- I'm sure most of you already put two and two together and guessed that I had the baby, which is absolutely right. Fun stuff… yeah. She's totally adorable and totally exhausting! Knowing what you're getting into and actually getting into this Mom business are completely different things, so be warned o.0 It's kind of a miracle that I've accomplished any writing or editing at all. But the good news is, things will get better – still slow, but better, and I am NOT giving up the story. I need a hobby to fight the insanity. Worse, beta-roomie is moving next month, which sucks even though we're both happy for her getting into a special graduate program. **

**Anyway, to all the readers and reviewers out there, thanks for sticking with me through everything! Please please please leave reviews so I can have a nice pick-me-up for continuing to write amidst the chaos of parenting :P**

[Songs for Chapter 15: "White Flags" - Our Lady Peace; "Time to Waste" - Alkaline Trio; "Anything But Beautiful" – July for Kings]

House of Cards

Two pair of boots crunched over the layer of accumulated crystal dust, the only sound to be heard in the dead landscape as Lightning and Noel struck out from the landing site. Her sharp eyes scanned the area, trying to take in _something _recongnisable, but the fallout zone that was Eden took even her by surprise. While she had only ever been to Cocoon's capital a handful of times in her life, that had been enough of an impression to highlight the stark contrast of the city now before her - if it could be called that anymore.

Lightning knew the look of a ruin, having seen a fair share of the skeletal remains of former civilization that littered Pulse, but the effect of a shattered and crystallized Eden was more like seeing a mangled corpse frozen over in its death throes. The bony framework of buildings, bridges, and towering spires jutted out at odd angles, with numerous rifts breaking the surface to pieces.

And that was far from the worst of it. They hadn't walked far, circling the rim toward the westernmost side, when they began to encounter actual bodies. Noel almost tripped over the first of them.

"What the—!" he exclaimed, hopping briefly on one leg to regain his balance. When he looked down, he gasped and stared, gaping like a fish.

"I-I... Sergeant Farron, this is—"

"I know," Lightning said hollowly. She looked down at the person in question, his frozen face contorted in a scream while his limbs appeared to have sprawled and flattened at the last. His positioning struck her as unnatural, and after a quick exploration of the surrounding area, Lightning felt the same of the other bodies - they all seemed to have landed where they lay before being frozen in place to the surface.

Lightning hovered for a long minute above the body of a woman cradling a small child to her chest, her crystallized eyes and mouth wide in either fear or the shock of death. The sight instantly sent chills down Lightning's spine, but she couldn't turn away. Swallowing the sick feeling that snaked up her throat, she knelt down and gingerly checked to see if the woman was also connected to the surface itself.

Noel's footfalls approached, and he asked in a harsh whisper, "What are you doing? Don't you think it's bad juju to disturb the dead? Just being here is creepy enough."

"I'm doing my job," Lightning replied tersely, not looking up from her subject at all. She brushed her fingertips over the woman's eyelids, wishing in vain to close them, and dusted her hands before quickly standing to her feet.

"We need to piece together what happened here. Just like this one," she explained, gesturing downward, "I think all of these bodies made impact with the surface before they crystallized."

Noel's brow furrowed, a disturbed look overtaking his face. "Then... they would've been lifted above it first." He turned, slowly panning his gaze across the shattered capital and its inhabitants, looking skyward to release a deep breath before he said solemnly, "I think I know how it went down."

Lightning nodded and perched a hand on her hip. "Then let's hear it."

"Right. So, Maqui pointed out to me that Eden would've stopped floating once the fal'Cie Eden went dormant, along with the others," he began, fishing around in his pocket for something. He turned up two different sized coins and placed them in his cupped palm, which he held out between Lightning and himself.

"When Cocoon shut down," he continued, "it started to drop through the atmosphere for several seconds, and Eden was falling with it. The people on the surface must've floated up a little bit." Pausing again, Noel held the two coins, with the smaller above the larger, over the surface of his cupped palm as he slowly lowered all three at the same time.

"Then, according to the official reports, Ragnarok started to crystallize Cocoon from the outside in, until the shell came to a complete stop when it connected with the pillar. The wreckage must've crystallized after it made contact," Noel concluded, his face and voice carefully devoid of emotion. With that, he dropped both coins in succession onto his palm, the second clinking atop the first.

Lightning nodded. "I think we can both agree that Eden didn't crystallize in mid-air and _then_ collide with the surface, or it probably would've had some protection. As l'Cie, our bodies fell all the way to Pulse with zero damage."

"Yeah, I don't think there's any other way to look at it. This place didn't stand a chance." Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Noel stared off at the jagged outline of Eden's central structures for a long moment before he pulled out a small digital camera. He snapped several shots of the victims and the landscape from where they stood, then set out toward the city proper. There was no need for further discussion – Lightning could easily follow his logic. The situation of citizens who managed to stick close to the surface when Eden fell, such as those indoors, would likely be different than for those who had been completely exposed, and they could leave no stone unturned.

Still, as Hope had hinted and they had just confirmed, Eden was severely damaged, almost beyond recognition. The simple laws of physics had seen to the demise of its population – any citizens she and Noel came across would have either died or been dying before the crystallization took effect, with few exceptions. The intriguing theories Alyssa had mentioned months before about whether the crystal seal had in fact killed the people of Cocoon represented a moot point in this location.

If it was even possible, an awakening for the people of Eden would mean only a continuation of agony before death. And as for the fal'Cie Eden, Lightning found that she didn't give a damn if they stumbled upon its dormant form. She tightened her fists at her sides, stalking forth at a faster clip.

_The fal'Cie set us up to die, no matter what, _she thought, gritting her teeth._ Cowards. I guess I can understand why the Settlement didn't have any qualms about sucking them dry for energy, even though that's turning out to be a dangerous mistake._

_I just wish I knew what Fang and Vanille were thinking in all of this._

* * *

When Alyssa had chosen his home town as the focal point of her experiment, Hope hadn't been terribly clear on what she had in mind. He now knew that nothing could have prepared him, though. They were standing in the middle of a frozen crowd - a sea of people who had last been stampeding down a major avenue of Palumpolum, either away from hostile forces or toward a means of escape during Cocoon's last moments. Hundreds of empty gazes hit the two intruders simultaneously.

_We'd be trampled to a pulp if they came to life right about now..._

"You're absolutely sure this is the best starting point?" he asked, his green eyes darting around nervously as Alyssa methodically arranged her equipment on the luminescent pavement.

At his question, Alyssa sighed in exasperation. "Everything in this place is going to be just as disturbing as right here. I've chosen this spot based on Maqui's coordinates, because for some reason this street is right on the line between those low energy and high energy zones he scanned."

"Fair enough," Hope conceded, but he still felt the creeping sensation of being watched on all sides while he tried to focus on what the researcher was doing. "So... where are you planning to place the sensors?"

"On test subjects," she replied matter-of-factly. Shifting her amplifier and display box next to a man in the approximate center of the street, she attached a number of sensors to his crystallized body - in several places on his head, as well as over the center of his torso and on his right foot where it connected with the ground. She then donned her headset and powered up the equipment.

Hope watched quietly for a few minutes while Alyssa sat there – maddeningly statue-like as she listened and monitored energy readouts – before his curiosity threatened to get the better of him. He didn't want to interrupt her efforts, though, so he finally just wove through the bodies to a nearby storefront and pulled out his long range transceiver to make a call. Maqui had had the foresight to rig a relay antenna on the transport for mission use inside the shell, and Hope guessed there was a good chance that Snow had heard some interesting reports from the other teams already. Chatting with him sounded infinitely more appealing than standing around in a ghostly mob.

Taking a breath, Hope calmed himself to sound casual, tuned to the correct channel and pressed the PTT button. "Hey, Snow, this is Hope. Just checking in."

"Gettin' antsy already, I see," Snow said, his short laugh making a loud burst of static.

"Guilty as charged. All I can do is _wait _while Alyssa gathers her data," Hope groaned. He paced in a circle for a moment, trying not to make eye contact with a boy who'd crystallized mid-stumble on the sidewalk in front of him. "I mean, I could wander around for the hell of it, but I have the worst feeling I'll end up running into people I know if I do too much exploring. That or see something really horrific."

"Heh, that's kind of unavoidable." Hope could picture the deliberate shrug accompanying Snow's comment, and he turned his thoughts toward just how traumatic it must've been for the man to walk in on the ocean-side town still reeling from the Purge.

_Yeah, he's definitely got it worse. I need to get a grip._

"I take it Bodhum's seen better days," Hope remarked, trying to stay light about the situation in Snow's usual fashion. "Find anything worth noting?"

Somehow, Snow summed up his harrowing account with the same evenness that he might have used on a standard mission report. "You'll get all the details after we regroup," he began, "but you might as well hear the gist. In a nutshell, Bodhum's half-slaughtered and half-drowned. I guess PSICOM cracked down on the mayhem when the Purge trains stopped running, and the GC security force must've put up some resistance near the station for a while. Outnumbered, though. It looks like everyone else hit the ocean to escape... or tried, anyway. Think it goes without sayin' that there _was_ no evacuation ship for the quarantine zone."

"Oh," was all Hope managed to breathe in response, once he finally recovered his jaw to speak. It really did defy description. Snow's choice to even take on that location had been a brave one - one of a thousand consistent actions to face his fears head on. Hope couldn't begin to imagine how agonizing it had been for him to see his home town laid waste firsthand, particularly when he would've known so many of the residents. For his part, Hope just wished he could say or do something helpful.

Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Snow, I-I'm sorry you had to see all of… that."

"No, I called it," Snow countered coolly. "Don't think for a second that I regret coming here. I'd rather know, once and for all, how it ended. At least we can make this disaster count for something when we get to Fang and Vanille, right?"

"Right."

_All of this trouble had better turn up something._

There wasn't anything more he could say to that, so Hope moved past the disturbing topic of Bodhum and asked instead, "Have any of the others reported to you yet? I'm sure some of the first teams are wrapping it up by now..."

"Well, yeah," Snow said, "but most didn't give me a spiel about everything they saw - except for the team in Euride Gorge. I guess the place was crawling with monsters before it crystallized. Other than that, though, it sounds like they're seein' variations on the same things we are. Just masses of human statues, mostly lying around or hiding or running."

Hope gave his words a few moments of serious consideration, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the crowded street of a glassy, blue-toned Palumpolum. With what little he knew now, any so-called pattern among the zones defied logic. Despite apparently having similar situations, several had turned out startlingly low energy readings while two among them had turned out high ones – East Palumpolum and Nautilus. And Euride Gorge was a conundrum unto itself.

Perhaps most unnerving, no clear correlation between the marked zones and the fal'Cie had turned up. Maqui was still completing a full second round of scans to make absolutely certain not to miss a square inch of the surface, but as of his most recent update before he'd dropped them off in Palumpolum, nothing had changed. Hope was honestly beginning to wonder if the fal'Cie had some previously unknown ability to mask their own power when dormant. He was running out of other explanations.

"I see. Thanks for the update, Snow, but I'm gonna get back to Alyssa now," Hope said finally. "Let's hope she's found something interesting."

On the other end, Snow chuckled dryly. "Yeah, good luck. See ya later."

With a frustrated sigh, Hope pushed off the storefront he'd been standing against and headed back toward Alyssa's last location. She had moved, though, so it took another couple of minutes of wandering before he spotted her squatting next to a new 'test subject' – a young girl huddled on a side street that intersected with the main avenue from the east.

Alyssa looked up suddenly when he approached, her eyes wide and troubled, and lifted the headset off. "Listen to this," she practically demanded as she pushed the headset toward him.

Considering her odd behavior, Hope didn't question the request and sat down to slip the set on. His ears were immediately flooded with static - more the colorful variety, with obvious skips and tones scattered in it. The sort that suggested heavy attenuation of a genuine signal.

And a signal radiating from a crystallized person was just plain unnerving. His mind went into overdrive as he tried to process what he was hearing.

_Who – or what – would any of these people be communicating with? And how? Is it even coming _from _this girl or is she being used like a transmitter, amplifying a signal from another source?_

_If I could just figure out the message itself..._

Hope jumped at a tap on his shoulder, lowering the headset to face Alyssa. His expression mirrored hers as he asked, "Was it like this with the others? How many people did you check?"

"Besides the first one, just two more on the west side of the main strip before this girl," she replied. Her eyes darted away for a moment, and her voice shrank when she added, "But the ones over there turned up really weak readings – definitely nowhere near this clear."

A heavy silence fell over them, holding within it the sense that they were on the cusp of understanding – that or further complication. Alyssa refused to let it linger, though, and stood to her feet, dusting a fine layer of crystal powder from her shorts as she returned to the task.

"Director, would you mind listening for a minute while I choose another subject over here? I need to confirm something."

"Alright." With a quick nod, Hope donned the headset again and got to it, willfully ignoring the prickling hairs on the back of his neck as he concentrated even harder on the content buried under all the interference. Some of the higher tones began to catch his attention, and he felt his pulse pick up speed when he realised that they sounded less and less like a fragmented electronic signal and more like something else.

_Is that... a voice?_

Hope closed his eyes as he focused, trying to make sense of what he guessed were scattered syllables – it seemed that no two ever landed together. He listened with eroding patience to the erratic string of "...d ... ...ar ... ...el...e ...m... ... da... ...er... ...yo..." The pieces were simply too short to pick up meaning or emphasis on any one portion.

But just as he was about to give up on the seemingly futile attempt, a single complete sound, shrill and desperate, burned into his ears.

_"Daddy!"_

* * *

Impossible as Lightning would've thought, Eden's city center was even more grisly than the outlying region had been. For one, the bodies that had made impact inside the complex network of structures had landed in every conceivable grotesque fashion – draped like ragdolls over the sides of bridges and buildings, half-jammed into broken windows, or even impaled on posts and rails.

For another, not all of the bodies were in one piece, and there was no comfort to be found in the fact that the gore was coated in crystal. There was something terribly wrong about a lone arm lying centered on a decorative shrub, perfectly preserved like an ice sculpture – something that twisted Lighting's already unsettled stomach. Nearby, Noel turned visibly green at the sight of the rest of the man belonging to the arm. His torso had apparently been split by a thin glass balcony railing, leaving his lower extremities inside the collapsed enclosure.

Lightning glanced away and pointedly cleared her throat, moving along with purpose, and Noel shook his head as he hurried to match her pace.

"Sergeant, I know we need to check inside some of these buildings," he began, obviously fighting to focus on the mission, "but do you think we'll be able to get through the crystal anywhere?"

"I'm hoping for an open door or two," she said dryly. "Unless you've thought of something better."

Noel's brow furrowed for a few seconds while he processed the dilemma, then he blew out a breath as he shook his head. Clearly, there wasn't anything else to be done, but so far they hadn't had much luck. Even in places where windows or walls had been smashed to leave gaping holes in some structures, the debris that caused the breakage – and often the subsequent collapse – blocked passage to what would've been prime interior spaces.

_If we could find just one decent site,_ Lightning thought shrewdly, keeping an eye on her watch for their remaining time to extraction, _I'd call this mission accomplished. Not quite to my standards, but acceptable._

To that end, they continued to wander along at least a dozen more streets before stumbling upon one building that was miraculously intact. Obvious cracks along the outer walls and a number of partially busted window panes exposed its fragile state, but it had apparently crystallized before the situation worsened.

In clear block letters, the sign above the double-door entrance identified it as _Central Eden General Practice._

"Hmph, this poor clinic would've been swamped," Noel remarked off-handedly, his sad attempt at lifting the mood falling flat when Lightning merely burned a hole through his head with her eyes. With a shrug, he finally disappeared from sight to walk the perimeter and inspect the windows and doors for a way inside. Several minutes later, when he returned with nothing useful to report, he huffed loudly and planted himself in front of the entrance, his fists on his hips as he stared intensely at the doors.

Lightning just rolled her eyes and took a casual stance beside him. "You can't expect to magically conjure an opening with your mind," she said flatly. "This is a lost cause and a waste of time. We should move on."

"Not a chance," Noel said stubbornly. "This place has the least damage we've seen, and I'll be damned if we don't get a look inside." With that, he whipped a rather outlandish sword from the scabbard at his back and strode forward.

Grabbing his arm to jerk him to a halt, Lightning nailed him with a steely glare as she charged, "Are you insane? You can't make a dent in this crystal with a normal weapon - you might just break the blade, or worse."

He tore himself free and fired right back, "With all due respect, Sergeant Farron, have you ever tried?"

"No, _Private_, but the fact that the crystal's strong enough to hold up a small moon should be proof enough," she said sharply, crossing her arms as they continued the stare-down battle of wills. "It's not any normal material, and it's infused with energy that we don't fully understand. I'm just using common sense."

With a growl of frustration, Noel slammed the tip of his sword against the crystal surface underfoot – to the great surprise of them both, it sank in a solid four inches, and he had to wiggle it free. Lightning's eyes widened minutely, then narrowed to slits in scrutiny of the odd sword, but there wasn't really anything she could say to the turn of events. Instead, she unsheathed her gunblade and jabbed it at the ground as well, only earning the sound of grating metal against crystal for her trouble. It didn't make a scratch, but it did send a jarring shock up her arm.

_Tch, embarrassing._

Laughing once at his own discovery, and probably at her failure as well, Noel just sauntered toward the entrance again. He hefted his sword into the air, smoothly separating a smaller blade from the main weapon, and turned to Lightning with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Guess it's worth a try, after all… First Sergeant."

The blades fell in graceful arcs against what had once been the glass doors of the clinic, melting cleanly through the crystal like a hot knife through butter. After a few precise cuts, Noel was able to kick open a section more than large enough for them to enter. He paused for a moment then, staring at his weapon in awe of its fascinating ability. Even Lightning had to admit being impressed, but it was no time to dwell on the development while their mission remained incomplete.

"I'd ask where you got that thing," Lightning remarked candidly as she strolled past him into the building, "if it wasn't irrelevant right now. Let's move."

The hurried scrape of boots against crystal dust reassured her that Noel had followed, and Lightning turned her full attention to perusing the state of the clinic lobby. It was more or less as expected – the main computing console and several file cabinets behind the front desk had been tossed or toppled, along with a number of chairs in the waiting area, before the crystallization rapidly set upon them. Even the resulting whirlwind of stray paperwork had frozen wherever it made contact with other grounded objects.

The dozen or so people involved had apparently been lifted and landed in a similar fashion to those outside, with the notable exception that they hadn't fallen far after hitting the ceiling. Their glazed expressions suggested various stages of discomfort or pain, but they all appeared alive. A man and woman near the reception window had actually managed to hold on to that structure and crystallized in mid-air, their hands still tightly clamped around the lip of the counter.

Taking cautious steps, Lightning wove around the statues and took a main hallway farther into the building. She had to duck under the protruding limbs of one unlucky staff member who had crystallized against the intersection of the wall and ceiling, a clipboard in her extended hand. Lightning briefly caught sight of the nametag pinned to her scrubs. Clearly, _Janis _had been preparing to catch herself in the fall that never came.

"Whoa," Noel gasped, now obviously right on her heels. "That's just... bizarre."

Lightning turned to find him gaping at the suspended woman and fought the urge to roll her eyes. "At least we found evidence that some of Eden's population didn't die a brutal death," she replied frankly. In her estimation, there wasn't time to ponder the strange and disconcerting nature of what they were seeing – Hope had only requested a detailed report on the facts, not analysis. She had no idea what he and Alyssa and whoever else would be analyzing the data really expected to find, but that was not in the mission description.

Once they made a complete round of the entire building to take several snapshots, Noel cut a hole through the back exit, and they moved on at a brisk pace. Heading back along the other side of the dense city center, they eventually passed the crumbling arch entrance to _Eden University_, where the warped and crystallized bars of its gate gave them both pause. It wasn't difficult for Lightning to remember a time when a bright-eyed Serah had dreamed of attending the school. And while some part of her felt a curious urge to inspect the campus, she thought better of it when she noticed the unusual stiffness of her companion as he looked on. Noel's jaw was tightly locked as a gloomy shadow shrouded his face, leaving his thoughts unreadable. Lightning checked her watch again to allow him a moment, quickly noting that only enough time remained for them to return to the extraction location near the far western rim anyway.

"We're done here," she said, turning on her heel. "The transport will be back soon." Not surprisingly, Noel didn't utter a word of protest. He simply snapped a picture of the gate, pocketed the camera, and pushed on without a glance behind.

From there, they covered the ground much more effectively by taking a less circuitous route, but that required a closer eye on the broken terrain underfoot. More than once a slight slip on the sheen of crystal dust over an incline gave Lightning a twinge of hesitation. She stopped short a third time at the edge of a shallow, meter-wide rift and groaned at the automatic reaction, cursing under her breath at some inane protective impulse that was overriding her usual reliance on instinct and coordination. It wasn't as if she couldn't trust her body or her boots to take on obstacles – or so she assumed. Normally, skating on a bit of slick ground would've led her to use it for speed to slide into an easy leap, not pause to avoid the danger and reroute.

_Hope never would've assigned me to this region if he knew, _she thought, rolling her shoulders as she shook off the momentary surge of uneasiness that came with the topic of what she had to tell him.

_Scratch that – he wouldn't have let me on the transport in the first place._

"Uh, Sergeant? Is something wrong?" Noel asked, his voice directly to her right catching her off-guard. He quirked an eyebrow at her when she met his gaze, suspicion playing across his face.

Lightning hurriedly recovered herself and flicked her eyes down to her watch. "Just reevaluating. Let's swing left a little bit – that area ahead looks obstructed."

Shrugging, Noel just replied, "If you say so," and continued on the adjusted path with no further comment.

* * *

Hope only heard the word once, with haunting clarity. The sudden urgency of it sent a jolt up his spine and he shoved himself away from the girl, tossing the headset in the process. A cold sweat broke out over his skin, and he pressed his hands against his ears as he tried to focus on breathing until the shock subsided.

_Unbelievable, _he thought, his mind continuing to race. _Was that a thought? Part of a dream? Or maybe I'm just hearing things now..._

Blinking rapidly, Hope looked again at the position of the crystallized girl on the street. She had curled into herself against the wall at her back, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. During those last moments, she was obviously frightened and probably lost. It made all the sense in the world if she had been separated from her father in the crowd, and that consideration alone was enough to convince Hope that he hadn't just conjured up her voice in his overtaxed mind.

Of course, to accept that was to shed light on a troubling truth. This girl was far from dead - not if something of her consciousness was detectable with their experimental instruments. Despite never having been a l'Cie nor dealt with a focus, she was apparently in a form of crystalstasis.

And that called into question the state of _everyone_ on Cocoon.

_But even if some of the citizens are in stasis, what can we do about it?_

"Director?"

Hope only distantly registered the voice calling for him. He was rooted in place on the crystal-dusted pavement, staring at the impossibility before him. His mind was a tempest of anxious thoughts – the increasingly convoluted situation they now faced had no precedent and little chance of being analyzed with much confidence, even after the efforts of their expedition.

_Still, maybe once we combine this with the other teams' data, _something_ will make sense…_

"Director, are you done over there?" Alyssa called again from somewhere far to his left, and when he still didn't respond, she shouted impatiently, "I need that equipment for the next subject!"

Snapping his head toward her voice, Hope abruptly got to his feet and called back, "Yeah, I'm done! You won't believe what I just heard."

Alyssa's exasperated sigh carried across the wide space between them. "Oh, try me."

* * *

While the atmosphere inside the transport cabin had been reverently quiet before, it was anything but on the way out of Cocoon. The Cavalry team members, with the notable exception of Noel, were bursting to chatter about every unbelievable thing they'd seen and hurriedly compare notes and pictures, as if that might relieve some of the shock of the experience.

Lightning didn't particularly subscribe to that idea. Some things just had to be faced, whether they left a person scarred for life or not, and she had no desire to recount the tale of Eden's aftermath. Instead, she sat rigidly in her seat, arms crossed over her harness as she fought back against returning hints of nausea. If Maqui hadn't been an actively functioning co-pilot, she would've tried to swap him for his seat in the cockpit from the get-go, where it was calm. From what she could tell, he and Hope weren't in much of a mood to chat about the expedition either – she hadn't heard a peep from the front. Some part of her was still considering making the request in spite of its impracticality, if only for the reprieve.

_Besides, I do need to talk to Hope... _

But as soon as she thought about the prospect of mentioning her pregnancy, Lightning recalled when she had incidentally surprised Hope mid-flight on her first day out of stasis, and a head-smacking swerve like that would be nothing compared to how he might react to the issue that was consuming her mind. She immediately decided against endangering everyone on board by hitting him with news of that magnitude while he tried to navigate.

Fortunately, it was a short flight across the open space within Cocoon, out past the Hanging Edge, and over to the warehouse district. As soon as they touched down, Snow was unstrapped and busily collecting all materials from the team members in envelopes covered in TOP SECRET labels, then promptly placing the batch into a locking briefcase.

Lightning tapped her foot impatiently when she noticed that Hope hadn't even killed the engines after several minutes, much less opened the cargo bay. She tried and failed to relax into the hard seat, rubbing the pressurized points between her eyebrows as she wondered what was going on with the delay. Her question was soon answered when Snow stood at the front of the cabin and called for his team's attention.

"Now, I know you're all probably gonna want to spill the beans to your buddies about everything we just saw on this crazy mission, but I'm standing here now to make sure that doesn't happen," Snow began, his booming voice easily overcoming the roaring ventilation fans. "Let me be clear – _nothing_ about today's mission leaves this transport. We've all sat through the training, so I won't waste any more time explaining the importance of keeping classified information under wraps, or the crappy stuff that happens if you don't." As if to emphasize his point, he smacked one fist into his other palm repeatedly on those last words, smirking dangerously before gesturing for everyone to get a move on.

A few of the team members snickered or shook their heads at his very off-the-cuff approach to the debrief, but given the casual relationship Snow seemed to have with his unit, Lightning didn't doubt they were still taking him seriously. Despite the annoyances that had plagued her morning, one corner of her mouth quirked into a wry smile at the spectacle of the loud-mouthed Snow warning _others_ about leaking information.

Finally, the blessed sound of the cargo bay opening reached Lightning's ears, and the team began to trickle out – probably to a late lunch before their journey back to the Second Cavalry field base. Lightning heaved a sigh of relief and unfastened her harness, standing and stretching her limbs before she made for the exit. Intent on getting out, her steps were unhindered by the continuing hum of the engines and the fact that Alyssa had made no move to leave her seat near the back.

What did stop Lightning was Snow's grip snagging her arm.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" he charged with a laugh.

She jerked her arm away and glared back in confusion. "I'm getting off. Where else _is_ there to go?"

Still wearing a knowing grin, Snow gestured at the briefcase and easily explained, "We've got one more stop. Can't risk any additional downtime while this stuff's on board, but it's not like it's a_ long_ trip to Central. You'll survive."

_Easy for_ you_ to say. Being in flight half the morning is not agreeing with me, _she thought miserably, but all Snow got from her was silent, begrudging acceptance as she swiftly turned to head back to her seat. Lightning would've sooner died than admit the tiniest hint of her discomfort to him.

Once Snow had also seated himself to strap in, the cargo bay closed right on cue. Growling quietly to herself, Lightning had no choice but to follow suit and reattach her harness, then discreetly try some breathing exercises as she sat very still. A few moments later, Hope poked his head out of the cockpit to check on them.

"Good to go back here?" he called, the tone of his voice hollow despite its volume.

Snow gave a thumbs up, Alyssa waved once, and Lightning just nodded for her part. Hope's eyes hit her for a fleeting second, hazy and unsettled, and curiosity flashed through her preoccupied mind about what particular sights on Cocoon had disturbed him, but she resolved that there would be a time and place to ask him soon enough. She was actually relieved that none of them seemed in the mood to talk now. Hope didn't say anything further himself before his head disappeared from view, and they were lifting off the ground within the minute.

_Eventually, _Lightning thought, inwardly cursing the rallying attack of airsickness on her stomach at takeoff, _I'll work my way around to what I need to say._

* * *

Hope felt his stomach resume its pattern of erratic flip-flops the instant Central's hangar doors closed on the transport. Once he'd powered down the engines, he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears – the more he thought about what they had discovered and _might _be discovering with further analysis, the more uneasy he became.

It didn't help matters that the colonel would be waiting for them, expecting a report on the expedition's outcome as soon as possible. Hope knew the rush was all for good reason, considering the deteriorated state of Cocoon, but his spirits sank when he envisioned the next hours and days spent poring over all the troubling data they had gathered. Sleep was probably not going to happen. Escape from whatever lab they inhabited within Research and Development was a dim prospect in and of itself.

_Light is not going to like this. Sure, she technically made the trip for this mission, but we were both looking forward to a little alone time…_

Next to him, Maqui suddenly cleared his throat. "Uh, Hope, you seriously oughtta wipe that look off your face," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Miles'll think the mission went south, and he'll probably also wanna know who died."

Hope shot him a half-hearted glare, then gave it up and sighed heavily as he ran a hand over his face. He tried to dismiss the weight of everything on his mind, but he knew it was useless.

_Hmph, that's some question. Who died? Maker knows how many different people. It's almost worse to think that some of them might still be alive in there._

_And if Cocoon does collapse before we can do something, they're as doomed as Fang and Vanille._

"That's not an invalid concern," Hope remarked, his weak smile ironic. "Unless he wants to know if anyone died this morning, specifically."

Maqui rolled his eyes. "Fine. Get me on a technicality." Going back to the console briefly, he saved the images of his scanned map grids to a disc and removed it, slipping it into a sleeve that was also labeled TOP SECRET. He waved it in front of Hope's face on his way out of the cockpit, a signal to get going.

Quickly pressing the button to open the cargo bay, Hope freed himself from his harness and climbed out after Maqui, noting that the passengers in back were already up and heading toward the lowered ramp. Ahead of him, Maqui had just snagged Snow and passed off his disc for safekeeping, but Hope was only interested in getting Lightning's attention before the spiral into a hell of analysis and reporting was set in motion.

He took several hurried strides to reach her at the back of the cabin, catching her by the shoulder. She whipped around at the contact, somewhat sweaty pink bangs falling haphazardly to obscure nearly half her face, and his eyes widened at the odd expression she wore. It certainly wasn't surprised or expectant – it wasn't anywhere near pleasant at all. If he hadn't known better, he would've thought she was sick. He had to wonder just how serious the issue was that had her in such a state, and his only good guess was that she'd seen something beyond terrible on Cocoon.

_Maybe Eden was worse off than we thought. I'll find out soon enough._

"Light…?" he began, his brow scrunching as he searched for better words.

Lightning blinked and glanced away, apparently annoyed. She huffed and muttered, "Cat got your tongue?"

"What? No," Hope rattled off, shaking his head. He squeezed her shoulder and smiled apologetically, defaulting to his original objective. "I just wanted to warn you about how long I might get stuck in R&D going over all this material, but you look… I don't know. Upset about something, maybe."

Lightning released a long breath and crossed her arms, still not directly meeting his gaze. "After everything we've seen, I'm surprised no one had a breakdown," she said flatly, the words empty of conviction despite being completely logical.

"Guess that's true," he replied, his free hand sweeping her bangs back for a fleeting glimpse of her eyes before they skittered off to focus elsewhere again. It was barely enough for him to catch hints of uneasiness rolling around in the blue depths, a disconcerting thought for him to process, but he didn't have the time to try and ferret out the real issue she was battling just yet.

_Definitely have to _make_ time for this later._

Lightning brushed past him and snatched her rucksack from the floor, pointedly getting back on topic as she asked, "So how long _do_ you expect to be in R&D?"

"O-oh, well…" Hope stammered as he awkwardly tried to help her with her things, but he just ended up stuffing his hands into his pockets when she refused. She was clearly in a hurry to get off the ship. Trailing after her, he continued to explain, "It could take a couple of days to get everything sorted through, and I don't know how long we'll need after that to put the report together. We still need you, Snow and Maqui to stay available for additional input if something comes up."

"Right," Lightning said dismissively, already striding down the ramp. "Let me know so I can keep my chain of command in the loop."

"Of course." Hope stopped at the top of the ramp for a moment, his shoulders sagging. He suddenly felt deflated, as if all the excitement and hopeful prospects from early that morning had come to nothing. Lightning seemed to be shutting him out for whatever reason, and worse, Cocoon was even more screwed up on the inside than anyone could've imagined. He had yet to see a scrap of proof that their efforts could help Fang and Vanille at all.

Naturally, he was snapped out of his funk as life around him soldiered on. Snow and Maqui shoved past, the former punching him in the arm, and only seconds after that Alyssa called from the bottom of the ramp, "Director, the colonel's waiting for you out here!"

Hope ran a nervous hand through his hair and forced himself forward again, waving once as he went.

"On my way!"

* * *

**Endnote: First of all, a note about my take on Noel's sword in this chapter – I didn't base it in any way on canon, and I don't intend to make it some huge feature of the story, but its special ability makes sense to me in a vague way. I just *decided* that since what happened to Cocoon was caused by Ragnarok (Pulse l'Cie working with Pulse fal'Cie/indeterminate power), it made sense that a *special* ancient weapon from Pulse might have an ability to interact with the crystal encasement, where no other normal object could. Just wanted to make note of that, lest anyone read super-deeply into that feature of this chapter. Sorry if I've disappointed some readers out there :-/**

**NOW, I am sure most readers have missed beta-roomie's comments as much as if not MORE than my updates :P So here you have a fun set, and it may well be her last, as she moves on to tackle a Master's program. That said, CHERISH IT 0.0 **

At the end of page one: **"oh god this is just one giant horror story of a chapter, isn't it?"**

When Lightning brushed her fingers over the dead woman's eyelids: **"CREEPTASTIC"**

After Hope told Snow that he was afraid he might see something really horrific: **"something more than what you've already seen?"**

Beside the initial description of what Lightning and Noel saw in the city center: **"seriously man this is effed up"**

Following Lightning's dismissive remarks about Noel's sword: **"[Lightning]- I'd as where you got that thing… OH WAIT, I forgot, you don't matter. [Noel]- *sobs tears of junior enlisted rage***

When Lightning thinks about how Hope probably wouldn't have let her come on the mission: **"Meh, at least you aren't fighting monsters this time. You're FINE."**

After Hope freaked out about hearing the little girl and wondered if he was just imagining it: **"It's your unborn baby in Lightning's uterus. Kid's advanced. Enjoy."**

And again when he decided that he really had heard the girl's voice: **"Nope. You cray-cray, boy."**

And yet again when he wonders what they could possibly do if some people were in stasis: **"Pray really hard and hope that Disney magic saves the day?"**

When Maqui transfers his maps scans to a disc: **"boo bad security practice! :P"**


End file.
